We are an unfinished story
by LightWoman
Summary: A new case for the Lightman Group may draw Cal and Gillian closer... or push them further apart. Spoilers for season one. Callian.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Lie to Me, or any of the characters. Unfortunately.**

This is my first fic, so please review! Not sure exactly where it's going, but hopefully chapter two will emerge soon!

Chapter One

Cal rapped on the door and entered at the same time, giving Gillian a mere half a second to try and compose herself. She straightened her shoulders as she turned to face him, smiling in greeting, even though moments before she had been on the verge of tears after getting off the phone with her lawyer. There was nothing like hearing the word 'divorce' thrown about with such reckless abandon as her lawyer did to make it hit home to Gillian exactly how her life was falling apart.

"You okay love?"

"Fine." She didn't sound it, but he knew better than to call her on the flicker of sadness he saw beneath her smile. He waited, knowing she would elaborate if she wanted to. After a moment, she continued. "It's just…" she averted her eyes briefly, then looked back at Cal. "I never thought I'd be getting divorced. You just don't think of it, when you're a kid, planning your dream wedding, a teenager, excitedly thinking about the future… divorce was always just something other people did. It wasn't supposed to happen to me. I feel like… I've failed."

"Hey." He put both hands on her shoulders, willing her to look at him. "Listen to me." Her eyes met his – to her credit he noticed she was doing a good job of keeping back the tears he saw pooling in her eyes from spilling onto her cheeks. "You have not failed. You hear me? This is not your fault. You might be a lot of things Gillian Foster – a soppy romantic, a hopeless optimist, an annoyingly-cheery-on-a-Monday-morning type person, but you are _not _a failure. Okay?"

She smiled faintly, but it seemed genuine enough. "Okay."

"Good. Now, enough of this depressing nonsense. Go and get yourself a slushie and read one of your trashy romance novels." He released her shoulders and took a step back.

"Actually, I'm not reading those so much anymore." She gestured to the book on her desk.

Cal leaned over and picked it up. "The Bell Jar? Seriously?"

"It's good," she replied defensively.

"Hey," Cal threw his hands up, "I'm not saying it's not, but… bit depressing isn't it?"

"And reading stories about other people's happily-ever-afters knowing my own didn't work out that way _isn't _depressing?"

Cal didn't have a reply to that, but merely nodded his head slightly to show he understood, and turned and walked out of her office. It was a testament to their friendship that conversations could sometimes end this way, without a traditional "I must go now" or "see you later" that other people seemed to employ. Maybe it was because they'd known each other so long, or because they knew each other and could read each other so well, but the formalities of conversation often fell to the wayside between Cal and Gillian – both could sense the conversation was over, and neither had to acknowledge it.

* * *

"Fancy some lunch?" Cal asked, plonking a box of Chinese take out on Gillian's desk. It was the following day, and things were fairly slow at the Lightman Group, although Gillian had been tied up on the phone most of the morning, and had barely seen Cal.

"Sure. Thanks." She smiled, and reached to open the first box, smiling slightly to herself when she realised that Cal had chosen all her favourites.

"How's the book?" he asked, after a few moments of companionable silence while both ate their food.

"Fine," she replied, knowing full well he was merely using the book as a chance to restart their conversation where they'd left off yesterday, if she chose to. He was giving her the chance to talk about it more if she wanted to, without feeling she was bringing it up suddenly or for no reason, but if she decided to sidestep it and lapse back into silence or steer the topic in another direction, she could, and he wouldn't mention it again. "Depressing, as you said." She smiled. There was a pause. Cal merely nodded, and took another spoonful of egg fried rice. "I suppose I was naïve," Gillian said at last, running the soft material of her skirt through her fingers – a self comforting gesture.

"In what way?" Cal looked at her with interest, but her eyes were still focused on her lap.

"For believing I'd get a happy ending."

"I don't believe in happy endings." Cal shrugged. "You know why?"

"Because you're a cynic?"

"Because," he said, ignoring her quip, "it's stupid to talking about endings in life. The end of your life is your death – so how can you have an ending before the end? What happens during the rest of your life after your 'happy ending'? All there is is time for it to unravel. So, no. I don't believe in 'happy endings'. He leant forward and snatched another prawn cracker from the pile, crunching on it loudly as he studied Gillian's response.

"So what do you believe in?" She was curious – as well as she knew Cal, he always seemed able to surprise her.

"I believe in happiness. I believe in love. And I believe in sorrow, and heartache, and tragedy. I believe in ups and downs – some people are luckier in their lives than others, sure, but everyone has good times and bad times, things going wrong, things going right. My marriage failed – " he caught himself as he realised this was the word he had discouraged Gillian from using yesterday. "My marriage didn't work out," he re-phrased, "but that didn't mean my whole life fell apart. It might have felt like it for a while, but I realised I still had good things in my life. Emily. The company. You."

Gillian felt a slight shiver run down her spine at his last word, but hoped it didn't show. But then, was there ever anything that happened that Cal _didn't _see?

"I still have good things in my life. I know that. But that doesn't help with the loneliness, does it?"

"No," Cal agreed, never taking his eyes off her face. "But it gets better. You get used to it… and then you stop noticing it all together."

"You might. I'm not sure I will." She folded her hands in her lap. "I've never been very good at being on my own. Out of practice, I suppose." She attempted a smile, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"You never know 'til you try love. You might enjoy life as a single woman."

"Single." She repeated the word out loud, testing it out. "I don't really like the sound of that."

"Ah well, if you don't want to stay single, you can start dating again."

"Right." She laughed. "It's that easy, huh? I just decide to start dating and, _wham!_ George Clooney walks through that door and asks me out to dinner."

"I'm not going to lie to you love," Cal said, "the chances of George Clooney walking through that door and asking you out to dinner are pretty slim. But he's not the only man in the world you fancy, surely?" There was a hint of playfulness in his voice, and Gillian felt herself start to blush.

"I don't want to be single," she said, "but I don't think I'm ready to date yet."

"So, you want to still be married then? To Alec?" There was a hint of accusation in his voice, and Gillian found herself growing angry.

"He was my husband, Cal. He was the one I thought I was going to grow old with. We spent the best part of a decade together, and now it's all over. Forgive me if I can't just move on from that in the space of a few days. As I recall, it took you months to get over Zoe, and you didn't date until… well – have you actually _been_ on a date since your divorce?"

Her eyes, he noticed, were ablaze with that mixture of fury and passion he'd always loved about her. "I might have done," he said. "But we're talking about you, not me." He paused. "I'm sorry, love. You're right. I shouldn't have said what I did. I'm here for you, whatever you need. However you want to get through this… whatever you need. I'm here for you," he said again.

Gillian merely nodded. The phone on her desk rang, and as she leaned across to answer it, Cal stood up. "Oh, hi," he heard he say, somewhat nervously. Quickly but silently he crossed the room, opened the door, and left her to take the call in private.

Five minutes later, Gillian hung up the phone. Talking to Alec about their next meeting with the lawyer had been a little awkward, but they'd agreed to talk to each other throughout the divorce, and not merely communicate through their lawyers, and Gillian was pleased that Alec was keeping his side of the bargain. Spinning around in her chair, she saw a note scribbled on a bright yellow Post-It stuck on the edge of her desk. _Whatever you need_. Peeling it off the desk, Gillian studied the writing she knew even better than her own, and the words he had spoken to her just moments before. How he'd managed to write this note and leave it on her desk in the two seconds it seemed to have taken him to leave her office after her phone rang, she had no idea. _That's Cal for you_, she thought, and felt a small smile come to her lips as she re-stuck the Post-It on the top of her computer, where it would always be in plain sight.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Lie to Me, or any of the characters.**

So here it is - chapter two! I still feel like there's quite a long way to go with this story, so bear with me if it seems we're going off on a bit of a tangent… you WILL get Callian ;-)

Chapter Two

"Good morning Dr Lightman," chirped his assistant, Sarah.

"Morning Sarah," Cal called back over his shoulder as he strode down the corridor and into his office. He pushed open the door and marched in, surprised to see that someone was already in there.

The man was tall, with dark hair and intense blue eyes. He was impeccably dressed in a smart black suit and deep purple tie. _Lawyer_, was Cal's first thought. _What the hell is he doing in my office_, was his second.

"Hello?" The man, who had been studying the walls of Cal's office, turned around.

"Ah. Dr Lightman, I presume." He smiled.

"That's right. Mind telling me who you are? And what you're doing in my office?"

"Ah. Yes. Sorry about that." He smiled again. "Eric Campbell." He offered a hand to Cal, who shook it. _Firm handshake_, Cal noted. His body language was quite open though. _This guy is assertive, but not arrogant_. "I tried to make an appointment, but your assistant said you were fully booked today, and I rather hoped that if I came here in person and explained the situation, you might be able to find a little time for me."

"Well I've got to tell you, breaking into my office isn't the best way to get into my good books," Cal informed him.

"Ah, but technically it's not breaking and entering, Dr Lightman… the door wasn't locked, I didn't have to force my way in…" _Definitely a lawyer_, Cal thought. "But you're right," Eric continued. "It was wrong of me to come in here when you weren't around… I was just intrigued to see where the great Dr Lightman works."

"Now, flattery – that might get you somewhere, if it's genuine enough." Cal studied the man standing in front of him – intense, intelligent eyes, prominent cheekbones and an expression showing a mixture of concern and hope.

"Five minutes." Cal pointed to the chair by his desk, and walked around to the other side to sit in his chair.

"Thank you," Eric said gratefully, sitting in the chair opposite Cal's. "Well, first of all, I'm a lawyer." Cal nodded neutrally, mentally giving himself a high five. "But before you say anything, I'm one of the good guys, okay? Not a lying, cheating, low life shark, like most people think of when you say 'lawyer'."

"Fair enough," Cal said, thinking that was probably true. The man might have sneaked into Cal's office when he wasn't there, but he did genuinely look like an honest kind of guy. "So how can I help you?"

"I have a client who's in a bit of trouble."

"Aren't all your clients?"

"Well, quite," Eric agreed, "but this one more than most needs my help. And yours," he added.

"What's the charge?"

"Murder," Eric informed him. "And I'll be honest, Dr Lightman, our defence is weaker than gas station coffee. I've heard about your work here, the cases you've worked on – right now, you could be the only person standing between my client and a life sentence for a crime she didn't commit."

"Alright," Cal said, nodding slowly. "Tell me more."

Rachel Thomas, it transpired, was accused of murdering her boyfriend Adam, an emergency room doctor. He was found stabbed to death in their home, and when the police arrived, Rachel was covered in his blood, standing by the body and clutching the murder weapon, one of her own kitchen knives.

"That does sound like a tricky situation," Cal agreed. "But you think she's innocent?"

"Absolutely." Well, that was the truth at least. _He's a lawyer who tells the truth and actually believes his client's innocent. This guy is one in a million_, Cal thought.

"There's something else," Eric admitted. "Two weeks prior to the murder, the police were called out to Rachel's house after neighbours complained of a blazing row between Rachel and Adam at 3am – it woke the neighbours up, and aside from being annoyed at the disturbance, they were concerned for Adam's safety."

"Adam's? Not Rachel's?"

"Rachel was heard to scream "If you lie to me again, I'll kill you," Eric admitted.

"Ah, lies. Troublesome things aren't they?"

"Rachel denies murder. She admits threatening him, but there's a big difference between telling someone you'll kill them in the heat of the moment and actually going through with it, isn't there?"

"True."

"So… you'll help?" Eric asked, leaning forwards slightly in his chair.

Cal nodded. "Yeah, alright. We'll help. Where's Rachel now?"

"Still in custody. She couldn't afford the bail."

"Right. Better get down there then, hadn't we?" Cal stood up, and Eric followed him, smiling gratefully.

"Thank you, Dr Lightman. I really appreciate this."

"We're here to help," Cal told him. "Well, that and make money of course."

As they approached the door it opened, and Gillian appeared, wearing a red dress that hugged her figure in all the right places.

"Ah, Foster," Cal said. "I've got a new case for us. This is my partner, Gillian Foster," he said, turning to Eric, "Foster, this is – "

"Eric." Her eyebrows were raised in surprise, and her face split into a wide grin as, to Cal's complete shock, she stepped forward and embraced the man standing next to him.

"Gillian." Eric hugged her warmly, and Cal felt the familiar tightening in his stomach he'd felt whenever he'd seen Alec and Gillian together.

"You two… know each other?" he asked, berating himself for the stupidity of the question but feeling at a complete loss as to what else to say.

"Gill and I are old friends." Eric, Cal noticed, was still holding onto Gillian's shoulders. "God, Gill, you look great. I mean, you always did, but…" He trailed off, and Cal looked from Eric to Gillian, who was smiling more than Cal had seen her smile in the last month.

"So what are you doing here?" she asked him. "You've hired us?"

Eric nodded, and opened his mouth to elaborate, but Cal cut him off. "You can fill her in in the car, let's get going shall we?" He held the door open for Gillian, then deliberately walked out after her, leaving Eric to follow behind as they headed down the corridor.

"Sarah, cancel all my appointments this morning. Torres can talk to James Layton for me. Anything else, push back 'til later," Cal ordered his assistant as he passed her.

"Okay, Dr Lightman, no worries," Sarah called, watching her two bosses stride down the hall with the handsome man she'd spoken to earlier. Sarah tried to hide her smile. She hadn't worked at the Lightman Group for almost two years without picking up a thing or two, and she'd bet a month's wages that right now, the strongest emotion emanating from Cal Lightman was intense jealousy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Lie to Me or any of the characters. **

So, chapter three! Eric and Gillian get closer… will Cal's jealousy be enough to prompt him to finally reveal his feelings for Gillian?

Chapter Three

Eric filled Gillian in on the case as the three of them travelled to see Rachel. Once or twice, Eric tried to break away from the case to ask Gillian a more personal question, but Cal continuously butted in, firing more questions at Eric about Rachel and the details of her boyfriend's murder.

"No one else believes her. I can't even say why I do. I just… know she's innocent," Eric told them, as he smoothly manoeuvred the car through the busy highways. Gillian was sat beside him in the front seat, her red dress sliding up her leg slightly as she shuffled about to get comfy. Cal, meanwhile, was squashed uncomfortably in the back. Eric's car might be flashy and expensive and comfortable enough for two people, but it really didn't take into account the fact that the people sitting in the backseat might actually require more than two inches of space for their legs.

Once inside the prison where Rachel was being held on remand, Eric informed the desk clerk that he needed to speak to his client immediately.

"Why the guests?" the clerk asked. She was a middle-aged, overweight woman who looked like she was counting the minutes until her next cigarette break.

"They are professional deception experts, who have kindly agreed to assist us in our case," Eric told the woman. "Can we go through to see Rachel now? A private room would be lovely. Thanks." He flashed her a winning smile, and Cal couldn't hide a scoff as the woman returned the smile, blushing slightly, and called over her shoulder to one of the guards, asking him to take Rachel Thomas's lawyer and guests to room 3.

"How do you want to do this?" Eric asked, directing the question more to Gillian than to Cal.

"We'll just talk to her, at first. We can try to petition to have her moved to our facility for testing, if we think it's necessary. For now, I'd just like to talk to her. Cal?" Gillian asked, using his name as if asking him to agree with what she'd just said.

"Right," he said, doing just that. "You talk," he said, pointing at Gillian. She nodded, and the three of them entered the room.

Cal's first impression of Rachel Thomas when she entered the room was that she resembled a child; whether it was prison that had withered her, or her boyfriend's death, or if she'd always been like that, Cal didn't know, but Rachel looked fragile, weak and above all else, vulnerable. She was visibly shaking as she sat down in the chair opposite Gillian and Eric, her eyes nervously darting between the two people sat before her. "Who are you?" Her voice shook with every syllable. Cal, seated slightly away from the table but angled to see Rachel perfectly, remained silent.

"My name's Dr Gillian Foster, I'm here to try and help you, Rachel," Gillian said, smiling warmly at her. The young woman's palpable fear and obvious stress visibly disturbed Gillian; Cal knew her well enough to know how much she hated seeing people in distress, and wasn't surprised when Gillian reached out a hand to lay it reassuringly on Rachel's arm. "I'm a friend of Eric's," she added, still smiling gently at Rachel.

_Is that relevant_? Cal found himself thinking irritably, but pushed the thought away quickly to focus on the reason why they were there: Rachel.

"I hate it here," Rachel told Gillian, her voice barely above a whisper. Gillian nodded sympathetically.

"Can you tell me what happened? Why you're here?"

Rachel cast her eyes away, averting Gillian's gaze. Tears leaked out and spilled down her cheeks, but she remained silent.

"I can't help you unless you talk to me," Gillian said softly. "Rachel?"

Abruptly the young woman stood up, the force of her movement a surprise after her quiet demeanour in the preceding moments.

"I can't talk to you," she said, her voice oddly calm, where moments before she had trembled with every word.

"Rachel," Eric said, standing also, "Gillian is going to help you. But you have to talk to her. Tell her what you know."

"I don't know anything." There was the faintest quiver in her voice, and a slight intake of breath; enough to tell Cal that Rachel was certainly hiding something.

"Rachel," Eric began, but she was backing towards the door, then banging on it fiercely.

"I'm ready!" she called, her fist dropping away from the door, falling to her side where it still shook slightly.

The heavy door was pulled open, and before Eric and Gillian could protest any further, Rachel was marched out the door by the guard, and disappeared along the corridor.

* * *

"I just don't understand," Eric said for about the fifteenth time as they walked back to the car. "She wants to prove her innocence, she wants to clear her name. Why won't she talk?"

"She's been through a traumatic experience," Gillian reminded him. "Irrespective of whether you believe she's guilty or not. She either murdered someone she once – perhaps still – loved, or she suffered the loss of someone close to her and finds herself wrongly accused. And, guilty or not, she's locked up in prison. Whatever the truth about her guilt, she's clearly still traumatised by what happened."

"She's scared," Eric agreed. "But I don't know why she left like that."

"Perhaps she was afraid of the truth getting out." Cal's words hung in the air for a moment.

"The truth," Eric said, "is that she's innocent. She wants that discovered."

Cal shrugged. "She's hiding something. She left abruptly because she was afraid we'd figure it out. I don't know whether her secret is that she's a murderer, but I _can _tell you that there is something that girl didn't want us to know."

Eric looked at Gillian, as if waiting for her to correct Cal on what he clearly thought was a case of mistaken judgement.

"She was nervous, and reluctant to talk to us. I can't say if her behaviour was related to a secret she wanted to keep hidden, or whether the effects of the trauma of Adam's murder and her imprisonment were masking other signs. She may have trust issues, following her arrest – you said you were the only person who believed she was innocent. Perhaps you are the only person she trusts right now."

Eric's eyes never left Gillian's face while she spoke, and Cal found himself kicking a pebble hard with his shoe as they traipsed across the car park.

"So, you don't think she was hiding something?" Eric asked, seeming eager for Gillian to confirm that she disagreed with Cal's assessment.

"I didn't say that," Gillian clarified. "Cal's right, her behaviour may be indicative of someone with a secret, and she was lying when she said she didn't know anything about the murder. I just think the girl needs some psychological help before we can even begin to get at the truth."

"Right." Eric nodded vigorously. "That makes sense." He spoke as though Gillian had just explained the laws of gravity to him. Cal rolled his eyes. "So our next move is to get Rachel some professional help – by which I assume we're talking about you?" he asked Gillian. "You are the best in your field, of course – if anyone can help Rachel, it's the wonderful Dr Foster."

Cal mimed sticking his fingers down his throat behind Eric's back, and Gillian scowled at him briefly, before turning back to Eric. "I'd like to talk to her outside of the prison – bring her back to the Lightman Group. She's frightened and scared in prison, we're never going to get at the truth as long as her fear is masking everything else."

Eric noddd. "I'll set the wheels in motion. I'll drop you guys back at your place and then make a few calls… I'll let you know when we're getting somewhere."

Gillian nodded, and smiled at Eric as he opened the car door for her. Cal couldn't stop a microexpression of contempt flashing across his face, causing Gillian to hiss, "What's your _problem_?" at him, as they both climbed into the car.

The journey back was much quicker as there was less traffic on the roads, and within five minutes, Eric's car pulled up outside the Lightman Group.

"Thanks Eric," Cal said, forcing himself to be polite to show Gillian he didn't _have _a problem.

"Thank _you_," Eric said gratefully. "I'll be in touch. In the meantime I'll send over all the case details that you asked for."

"Great." Cal nodded. "Right… we'll be seeing you then." He headed towards the door, but noticed Gillian was not at his side. Turning slightly, he saw that Eric was standing next to Gillian by the car, speaking to her in a low voice. He was leaning in towards her, smiling. Foster, Cal noted, also looked fairly relaxed, and after a comment of Eric's Cal heard the familiar tinkling sound of her delicate laugh.

"Loker!" Cal barked, as he saw the young man walking past the front entrance.

"Dr Lightman," Loker replied. "How was the prison?"

"Fantastic." The rough edge to Cal's voice gave away his bad mood, but whether it was to do with the case or something more personal, Loker had no idea. No one was better than his boss at keeping his cards close to his chest, and Loker knew that if Cal cared about letting everyone see he was in a bad mood, he could easily have masked it and convinced everyone in the office that he genuinely _was_ in a fantastic mood.

"Okay… is there anything you need me to do right now? Torres and I spoke to Layton, but he's still insisting he speaks to one of the partners…"

"Foster can deal with it," Cal said, sweeping past him and heading to his office. It might only be eleven thirty in the morning, but Cal felt the strong urge to consume some alcohol. Sitting at his desk with a glass of brandy in his hand before midday brought a memory flooding back from six years ago, when Gillian had swept into his office, a radiant smile on her face, flashing an engagement ring at him. Downing the remains of his glass, Cal reached for the bottle. Just one more wouldn't hurt.

* * *

Having left the office almost as soon as she'd arrived back to deal with James Layton, Gillian didn't return again until almost six. She was tempted to just go home and ask Eric to pick her up from there for their dinner this evening, but there were a few things she wanted to drop off at the office, and a few words she wanted to have with Cal.

Heading to her office first, Gillian expected to have to visit Cal's office to find him, but was surprised to see him standing by her desk when she pushed open her door.

"Hey," she said, surprised.

"I was just leaving you a note." Cal pointed at the post-it on her desk. _Sorry_, it read.

Gillian exhaled, putting the files down on the edge of her desk. "Why, Cal? What was up with you today?"

"I've just been a bit of a moody bugger, that's all. Sorry." He shrugged.

"It's Eric, isn't it?"

_Those beautiful eyes of hers don't miss a trick_, Cal thought, sighing inwardly.

"When he first came to me, I thought it was because he genuinely needed our help – he said he'd heard of me, my work…"

"And you were flattered, naturally," Gillian filled in. "So why the change? Because you found out Eric and I know each other?"

"Because I found out the real reason Eric came to the Lightman Group wasn't for Lightman."

Gillian rolled her eyes. "He needs our help, Cal. Rachel needs our help. You're too distrustful of people."

"Maybe you're too naïve."

"Naïve about _what_? Eric came to us so we can help Rachel. You don't believe that?"

"I don't believe the reason he chose the Lightman Group to help him is because of me. Come on Foster, you've seen the way he looks at you. He's in this for personal reasons."

"I know Eric," Gillian said, stressing every word. "He's a good lawyer who cares about people."

"And you don't think there's the slightest possibility that he might get… distracted? While working on this case with you?"

"You're unbelievable." Gillian shook her head. "Eric's not some sleazy lawyer who's hitting on me. He's an old friend."

"And by friend, you mean…"

"Friend." The traces of anger in her face were blinding to Cal; perhaps he was pushing this too far.

"Okay."

"Eric and I go back a long way."

"So do we," Cal said, rather bluntly.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Gillian asked him, focussing her blue eyes intently on his. "You're comparing our friendship to mine and Eric's. The two are unrelated."

_Are they_, Cal thought. _Are they really_.

A knock on the door jolted both of them from their thoughts. A quick "come in!" from Gillian was followed a second later by Eric's head peeping round the door.

"Ready?" he asked.

Gillian glanced at Cal. "Almost," she told Eric. "Can I meet you outside in five?"

"Okay." He smiled, then nodded briefly at Cal. "Dr Lightman."

"Eric." Their brief exchange complete, Eric took a step back and closed the door, and Cal flopped back into one of Foster's armchairs.

"Have a nice night then, won't you?" he said, not even bothering to attempt a smile, knowing she'd see through him.

"Cal… "

"Yes?"

"Eric's a good guy," Gillian said firmly, her gaze still firmly held on her partner.

"Like you thought Alec was a good guy when you met him?" As soon as his words hit the air Cal knew it was a mistake. Gillian's arm twitched, as though she was going to hit him but had changed her mind. Anger was still blazing in her eyes, along with an emotion Cal hated to see: hurt. "I'm sorry, love," he said, reaching out a hand to her, but she took a step back, shaking her head slightly, a look of disgust on her face. Without a word, she turned on her heel and walked out of the office.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Lie to Me or any of the characters. **

Thank you so much everyone for the reviews, they really do encourage writing and inspiration! This chapter was taking quite a while to come together, so rather than keep you guys waiting, I've ended it a little sooner than I'd planned, and some stuff that was going to happen in this chapter is going into chapter five. So – enjoy!

Chapter Four

It was barely 8am, but there were enough people scuttling around the Lightman Group building to make the place look busy. Loker was in the lab, reviewing the footage of Rachel Thomas's first police interview following her arrest, as Lightman had instructed. The woman on the video was very distressed – sobbing, scratching nervously at her arms, shaking her head every time Adam's death was mentioned. She was obviously distraught – but whether that was because her boyfriend was dead or because she was horrified that she'd killed him was masked by her constant sobbing and wailing.

"You were found leaning over Adam's body, holding the murder weapon, covered in his blood. How do you explain that?" The inspector questioning Rachel was not unkind, but repeated the last part of the question a little more firmly when he received no answer.

"I didn't do it!" Rachel screamed, her eyes wide with fear. "Don't lock me up! Please! I didn't do it, I didn't do it, I didn't do it…"

"Loker." His boss appeared behind him, and Eli spun around in his chair, pausing the footage on the image of Rachel putting her head in her hands in despair.

"Morning Dr Lightman."

"What do you see?" Cal gestured at the video.

"I see a traumatised woman. My gut instinct would tell me she didn't do it, but she could just be traumatised after committing murder, and she seems terrified of being put in prison."

Cal nodded. The door to the lab opened, and Foster appeared, wearing a deep purple dress.

"Morning Loker," she said, smiling at him in greeting. The smile disappeared from her face. "Cal," she said neutrally.

_At least she's being civil to me_, Cal thought. _Which is probably more than I deserve_.

"Good night last night?" he couldn't help himself asking.

"Lovely, thank you," she answered without looking at him.

"Pleased to hear it," Cal replied shortly.

Loker watched this exchange with faint amusement. You didn't have to be Cal Lightman to know that Gillian had been out with the lawyer she and Cal were working with last night, nor that Lightman was far from happy about it.

"Did you get anything from the footage?" she asked Loker, walking closer to the screen.

"She's showing high anxiety throughout the interview, with fear and panic increasing every time Adam's name is mentioned. Her voice wavers all the time – it's impossible to establish a baseline pitch for her voice. If you want a decent read from her, you'll need to calm her down."

"She's being transferred here this morning," Gillian told him. "She'll be here at about 9."

"Really? I wasn't informed about this," Cal said, trying to keep his voice casual. "Eric tell you that last night, did he?"

"The final arrangements were put in place yesterday afternoon. Eric called me to confirm the details. I would have told you, but you seemed a little preoccupied yesterday." The coldness was still there in her voice, and Cal ached to hear it.

_I've got to make it up to her_. Loker's voice interrupted his thoughts. "I'll set up the Cube." He rose quickly and walked out the room, leaving Gillian studying the video footage, and Cal studying Gillian.

"We need to ask Rachel about the night the police were called to the house. She admitted verbally threatening Adam –if we can get her to talk honestly about that, it should give us a baseline to judge her denial of murder against."

"Yep." He nodded. "Look, love, about last night…"

"You know what I don't get, Cal?" she interrupted, turning to face him. "Two days ago you told me you'd be there for me, no matter what I needed. Where's the guy from that day gone, Cal? Because I didn't see him last night, when you were making comments about my friendship with Eric and the break up of my marriage which, if you recall, has been something of a sensitive issue for me."

"I know, love, and I'm sorry…"

"Forget the apologies. I'll settle for an explanation."

For a long moment, Cal just stared at her. How could he put into words what had been going on the past couple of days, when he didn't even fully understand it himself?

Before he could even try, a cough interrupted them, followed by a voice Cal was growing to hate. "Gillian." Pause. "Dr Lightman." Eric stepped into the room, smiling. _What does this guy have to be so bloody cheery about? _Cal thought irritably. _His client's facing a murder charge!_

"Thanks again for last night," Eric said to Gillian in a low voice, touching her arm briefly.

_Oh right. I guess that's what he's cheery about_. Pushing aside all thoughts of Eric and Gillian and what last night might have entailed, Cal tried to switch his mind firmly to the job at hand.

"So, Eric," he said. "Tell me – was Rachel always this distressed when you spoke to her?"

Eric frowned in thought. "She was devastated to be thought guilty of hurting Adam. But I suppose she was more…" he waved his hand at the TV screen in front of them, "emotional, once she was in prison. But that's hardly surprising, is it? It's not exactly a pleasant experience."

"Been through it yourself have you?"

Gillian frowned at Cal, but Eric gave a short, uncomfortable laugh. "No, no, but… well, you know what I mean."

"Sure." Cal was studying Eric's face intently, his head cocked to one side, and Eric awkwardly shifted his attention to Gillian.

"So, how do you want to do this? I think it might be best if I'm present, after last time… you've seen how Rachel can be with strangers."

"I agree. You and I will talk to her." Gillian turned to Cal, exhaling slightly. "That okay with you, Cal?" The look on her face told Cal he'd better not dare disagree.

"Absolutely," he said, injecting as much conviction into his voice as possible.

A brief silence followed, punctuated by the ringing of Eric's phone. "Excuse me," he said apologetically, pulling it from his pocket. "Campbell? Yes? Just a moment." He covered the mouthpiece with his hand, whispered, "I'll just take this outside," to Gillian, then marched out the door, resuming his conversation.

"I'm sorry, love," Cal repeated, perching himself on the edge of the desk. "I shouldn't have said what I did yesterday. I said I'd be here for you, whatever you needed, and I meant it."

Gillian turned towards Cal, sighing softly. "It's okay."

"No, it's not. I was just worried about you, that's all."

She looked at him in surprise. Cal Lightman could be a master liar, but he seemed to be telling the truth right now. Her mind flashed back to the night she, Cal and Alec had had dinner together, and Cal had followed Alec after leaving the restaurant. He'd been trying to protect her then… but hadn't she reminded him it was best to respect the line? Weren't they supposed to mind their own business when it came to each other's personal lives? Another thought came jostling into her mind – _he cares about me_. As annoyed as she might have been with him – and last night certainly wasn't the first time Cal Lightman had done something to infuriate her – Gillian couldn't help feeling almost… pleased? Was that it? That warmth spreading through her when she thought of how Cal had wanted to protect her… it made her feel safe, somehow, to know he cared that much about her.

Cal was still looking at her, waiting for some kind of response no doubt, and Gillian tried to clear her mind – and face – before he could read her expression, if he hadn't already. "You were worried about me? Why?" she asked, as neutrally as she could.

"Two days ago you said you weren't ready to date, and now you're…" he waved his hand towards the space where Eric had been standing. "I just didn't want you to get hurt, love."

Gillian paused, choosing her words carefully. "Eric and I are friends," she said at last. "We're not dating. Not that it's any of your business," she added, but with a flicker of a smile, and Cal felt relief sweep through him.

"Yeah, you're probably right, I should just stay out of it. There's enough drama on those trashy soap operas Emily makes me watch, I don't need to get involved in one myself."

"You're saying my life is like a trashy soap opera?" she teased him.

"Well, it's getting that way. Newly divorced woman, fraternising with a colleague… not to mention all the time she spends flirting with her partner."

"Oh is that so?" She put her hands on her hips, a look of mock annoyance on her face. "I'll stop being nice to you if you're getting the impression that I'm flirting with you."

"Nah, you'll never be able to stop. I'm just too irresistible." He winked at her, and jumped off the desk. "Now, if you're done trying to turn my life into a soap opera, shall we try solving a murder?"

Gillian smiled at him. "Let's do it."


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Lie to Me or any of the characters. **

Thank you soooo much everyone for all the reviews, they make me smile :-)

Chapter Five

Half an hour later, Rachel was hooked up to the sensors in the Cube, and Gillian and Eric sat opposite her. Having persuaded the prison officer who'd escorted her that it was safe to wait outside the Cube, Cal was now sitting next to Loker, examining the monitors.

"Are you comfortable, Rachel?" Gillian asked her.

Rachel nodded. She did seem calmer than she had been the last time they'd seen her, but Cal still had a feeling his partner would have to work quite hard with this girl.

"What can you tell me about October 15th?" Not mentioning the words _Adam_, _murder _or _death _was probably a wise move, Cal figured, but Rachel remained silent, her eyes on the table, absentmindedly rubbing her thumb and finger over her left wrist.

"Do you usually wear a watch, Rachel?" Gillian asked. Eric looked at her in confusion. "You keep rubbing your wrist," Gillian explained. "Is it because you're used to having a watch on your wrist?"

"Bracelet," Rachel mumbled.

Gillian nodded. "What's it like?"

Cal could tell by the look on Eric's face that he didn't have a clue where Gillian was going with this, but Cal did. _Because I know her better than you_, he thought, understanding Gillian's attempts to get Rachel to open up about Adam, but still marvelling at her technique. _The woman's a bloody genius_.

"Silver, with hearts." There was a pause. "Adam gave it to me on our first Valentine's Day."

"That's nice. My husband bought me a bracelet once, with butterflies on. I used to wear it all the time." _Used to_. It hadn't escaped Cal's notice that Gillian had stopped wearing the bracelet several months before she and Alec separated. "Did Adam often buy you jewellery?"

Rachel nodded. "Diamond earrings, last Christmas." She reached a hand up and rubbed her earlobe. "I miss them."

"I'm sure you do." Gillian nodded in understanding. She glanced up, and her eyes briefly met Cal's. Refocusing her attention on Rachel, she asked, "How did you meet Adam?"

"In a bar." A slow smile spread across Rachel's face. "He was the bartender. I was out with some friends, and I noticed him, and thought he was really cute. But every time I tried to catch his eye, he'd look away, or try to duck out of view. I figured he was married, or just not interested or something. Half an hour later, he was standing next to me, on the customer side of the bar, offering to buy me a drink. He said he didn't want me to see him as just a barman, as he was only doing that part time to help him pay the bills while he was in med school." It was the most Cal had heard her speak.

"How long ago was that?"

"Four years."

"Got a good baseline – Foster's keeping her calm, she's getting the truth… we might be getting somewhere," Loker informed his boss. Cal nodded, never taking his eyes off Gillian and Rachel. Eric, he noticed, had been silent so far. _Out of your league_, Cal thought, realising the multiple meanings of the phrase that had just swooped into his head.

"Adam enjoyed being a doctor?"

"He loved it." Rachel was nodding enthusiastically. "He always wanted to help people. I mean, it was difficult… long hours, and a lot of pressure, and he sometimes had trouble sleeping… if a patient died, it would really get to him, especially at first. He's better now. I mean…he… he was…"

Fresh sobs erupted from her throat, and Gillian reached across the table and touched Rachel's hand lightly. "Rachel. You're doing really well. I know this is difficult for you, but I'd really like to know more about Adam."

Rachel sniffed, trying to hold back her tears. "He was a good doctor," she said firmly. "He was nice to everybody. Even the people who didn't deserve it." Her voice took on a harsher edge when she spoke her last words, which didn't go unnoticed.

"What do you mean?" When she received no answer, Gillian tried again. "Rachel? Who was Adam nice to that didn't deserve it?"

"Her." She spoke so bitterly, and pressed her fingernail down on the table so hard, Gillian was surprised it didn't break.

"Who, Rachel?"

Rachel looked up, and met Gillian's eyes. "Amber Floyd."

"Rachel, why have you never mentioned this name to me before? Or to the police?" Eric was trying to keep his voice calm, but Cal could tell he was irritated. _Foster got more out of Rachel than you did_, he thought. _Well, there's a surprise._

Rachel shrugged. "What do the police care? They think I did it."

"Okay Rachel," Gillian said. "We're going to take a little break, and then when we come back, I'd like to talk about Amber. Okay?"

Rachel shrugged again, but nodded slightly, and Gillian stood up. "Can I get you anything? A drink, or…"

"A coke," Rachel said decisively. "I haven't had a coke since…"

"Okay. I'll send someone in with a coke for you, and we'll be back soon. Just try to relax."

Eric followed Gillian out of the Cube, and they met Cal and Loker outside.

"Block her vision," Cal ordered, and Loker flipped a switch so that although they could still see Rachel, she could no longer see them.

"Amber Floyd," Gillian told the men standing around her. "She's important."

"You think she's a suspect?" The doubt was written across Eric's face, even if he didn't know it. "We don't know anything about her yet."

Cal saw the flash of annoyance cross Gillian's face, and tried to hide a smirk. Before she could open her mouth to respond, Cal jumped in. "I agree. She could be very significant in this case."

"Well, I'm not saying she's not, but…"

"Can you get Rachel a coke, please," Gillian asked Loker, who had been sat quietly, switching his gaze between the two other men in the room.

"Drink errands, my favourite," he muttered, but left to do as his boss had asked.

"We need to get the research team to pull up everything they can on Amber Floyd," Gillian told Cal, who noticed the subtle difference between the way she spoke to him and the way she'd just spoken to Loker; this was not an order, but a statement about what they needed to do – together. As a team.

"I'm on it," he said, flashing her a quick smile. Leaving the room, he glanced back briefly at Gillian and Eric, who, he noticed, were standing a bit further apart than they had been earlier this morning. Cal swung the door open and strolled down the corridor, trying to suppress the sudden urge to whistle a jaunty tune.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Quite a short chapter, but chapter six should be a bit longer. R&R!


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Lie To Me or any of the characters.**

Thank you everyone who has been following and reviewing this story – there's still quite a way to go! I've drafted out the whole story, not sure how many chapters it'll be exactly as it depends where I end each one, but there's still a lot more to come! Anyway, hope you like this one… review if you feel like it! :-]

Chapter Six

"Amber Floyd, twenty eight, married, works as a receptionist at a dental practice in town. She's only been there three months – prior to that there's no record of her living or working in DC, but I did find her on a list of former employees at a telecommunications company in Boston about a year ago, and at a branch of the same company in Chicago about six months ago. This girl likes to move around a lot." Tom Bates, one of the lead researchers at the Lightman Group, finished speaking and handed the file he'd compiled to Gillian, who opened it up, revealing a picture on top of a pretty woman with honey blonde hair and bright blue eyes.

"Any criminal record?"

"Nothing. I did, however, find this." He produced a print out from the internet – a local gossip article about a disturbance at the opening of a new shopping mall in LA. It was dated eight months ago.

"So a year ago she was in Boston, then LA, then Chicago, and now here," Cal summarised, leaning forward to take the piece of paper Tom held. It showed Amber and another woman having a catfight outside the new mall. MALL BRAWL, read the headline. Scanning the article, Cal relayed the information to Gillian, Eric, Loker and Reynolds, who had joined them. "Amber and a woman called Angelina Freemont had a fight just as the mayor was about to cut the ribbon. Unclear who started it… seems they were having an argument which then turned violent. Neither were seriously hurt, security guards standing nearby separated them, said they wouldn't call the police if they both left. One onlooker commented that she thought the fight was over a man."

He looked up. Gillian was nodding slowly. Then, "bring her in," she and Cal said to Reynolds at exactly the same moment. Cal half smiled, then gestured towards the Cube. "Why don't you and I go and have a chat with Rachel about Amber?" Gillian nodded, and started towards the door.

"Er…" Eric began.

"Oh, Eric," Cal said, as if he'd forgotten he was there. "Make yourself comfortable, yeah?" he gestured to the chairs. "Can Loker get you a coke, or something?"

Loker rolled his eyes, but Eric shook his head. "I'm fine, thanks."

"Fantastic." Cal grinned. "Right. Better crack on then, eh?"

* * *

"Amber Floyd… how do you know her?"

"He speaks." Rachel met Cal's eyes. "I figured you were just the silent partner."

Cal laughed. "No, 'fraid not love. But I am interested in helping you, so if you could just tell me how you know Amber Floyd. Or how Adam knew her."

A look of contempt flashed across Rachel's face. "She was always at the hospital."

"Was she sick?" Gillian asked.

Rachel let out a short, bitter laugh. "Sick in the head, maybe. But physically, there was nothing wrong with her. She just used to turn up all the time – headaches, dizzy spells, feeling sick… she just wanted the attention. She wanted _Adam's_ attention."

"Did he give it to her?"

Rachel's head snapped up at Cal's words.

"No," she practically snarled. "Adam was sick of her, always hanging around, but he was too nice to say anything. Even when things started getting out of hand."

"Out of hand how?" Gillian asked her.

"She called him. At home." Rachel wrinkled her nose in disgust. "As if going to the hospital all the time to see him wasn't enough, she called him at _home_." She resumed rubbing her wrist, but more furiously this time.

"Is that what you and Adam argued about?" Gillian's voice was soft, but Rachel didn't respond. "Rachel? We know the police were called to your house three weeks ago, and that your neighbours heard you arguing with Adam. Was it about Amber?"

"He said he'd taken care of it, he said she hadn't been back to the hospital." Rachel ground the words out through a clenched jaw. "After the phone call I wanted to call the police, tell them she was hassling us, but Adam said she was just mixed up and lonely and he'd sort it. And then he said that he'd spoken to her, and she was going to back off. He said that she hadn't been to the hospital since. And then she turns up at my bloody _house_."

"She knew where Adam lived?" Gillian glanced at Cal, the significance of this escaping neither of them.

"She shows up on my doorstep, says that she needs to talk to Adam. So naturally, I tell her to get the hell out of there before I call the cops. And I told her that I knew Adam had warned her to leave him alone, and she said she didn't know anything about it – that she's had coffee with him that morning in the hospital canteen."

"What did you do?" Gillian prompted her.

"I told her to get the hell away from my house, and never go near me or Adam again, or I'd call the police. And then I waited for Adam to get home. He was working a late shift."

"And he got home, and you argued? And then the police arrived?"

"It was late, and we were loud, and I'm sorry I woke the neighbours. But I was pissed, you know? He lied to me, he bloody _lied_ to me."

"Perhaps he just didn't want you to worry." Cal's input was not well received by Rachel.

"Didn't want me to worry? Worry, what? That he might be having an affair? Please. She's not his type." She tossed her hair, thrusting her chest out slightly. Pride.

"You knew Adam would never cheat on you. He was loyal." Rachel nodded at Gillian. "And you didn't mean it when you said you'd kill him if he lied to you again?"

"Of course not." Rachel's voice had dropped to barely above a whisper. "I was angry. I just said it, in the heat of the moment. But then when… after he… the police used it against me. But I didn't mean it. I would never hurt Adam. Never." Her eyes shone passionately.

"Did you kill your boyfriend?" If the boldness of his question surprised Rachel, she didn't show it.

"No," she said with conviction.

"Is she telling the truth?" Eric asked Loker, who was examining the monitors.

"Vocal pitch is steady, her heart rate increased slightly when she got agitated, but nothing's spiking up as suspicious. No signs of deception leakage. She's telling the truth."

Inside the Cube, Cal was studying Rachel's face. "I believe you, love," he told her. "I don't think you killed Adam. I think you came home and found him dead, and you leant over his body and got covered in his blood, and you picked up the knife that the killer had left, and you were holding it when the police came in. Right?"

Rachel nodded. "No one else believes me, except Eric."

"Well, I believe you now, and so does Dr Foster, and everyone here. And we're going to help you Rachel, okay? We're going to find out who really did kill Adam. I promise you that."

Rachel nodded, tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. "Okay."

Outside, Reynolds nodded towards the door, and Cal headed towards it. Gillian followed, squeezing Rachel's shoulder briefly as she walked past.

"She's telling the truth, she didn't do it," Cal said once they were outside.

Reynolds nodded. "Then I guess you're going to want to speak to Amber Floyd. I had Torres go and pick her up. She's here."


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own Lie To Me or any of the characters.**

Thanks again for all the support and reviews guys! Sorry this chapter has taken a bit of time, hopefully it was worth the wait :-] I've already written quite a lot of the following chapters, so after this you shouldn't have to wait too long before the next update ;-)

Chapter Seven

Thirty minutes later, Rachel was being escorted back to the prison, accompanied by Eric. The panic in her voice had risen as she realised she was being taken back there, and when her words of comfort did little to help, Gillian suggested to Eric that he go back with Rachel and talk with her again at the prison before she was transferred back to her cell. Trying to hide the devilish grin that threatened to wipe the blank mask off his face, Cal had watched Eric agree to Gillian's suggestion, even though his face had clearly shown that he would much rather stay at the Lightman Group. Cal watched Eric walk out the door with a poorly concealed wistful glance behind him. _Tough luck, mate_, he thought, as his mask slipped momentarily.

"What?" Gillian asked him.

"What?" he echoed. "Didn't say anything."

"What's with the impish grin?"

The smile flickered back over his face for a second, as it often did when Gillian was able to read him. During these moments, he often felt a mixture of pride at her abilities and a strange sense of companionship; a reminder of the gift they had in common and their collective skills which had led them to this – the life they shared.

"Just looking forward to cracking this case. Got a feeling this girl's going to be interesting to talk to."

Gillian continued studying his face for a few seconds, then shook her head, a slight smile playing on her lips. "Let's get on with it then."

* * *

"Hi, Amber, I'm Gillian Foster. This is Dr Cal Lightman." Gillian smiled warmly at the woman sitting in front of them. She was even more attractive than she looked in the picture the team had found of her. Even dressed casually in jeans and a black top, she could have been a model. Silky, honey blonde hair fell to just below her shoulders, long, dark lashes framed bright blue eyes and her skin glowed with a radiance that would make most women jealous.

Sure, she was attractive, but as Cal studied her with his usual level of scrutiny, he couldn't help comparing the blue of her eyes to Gillian's, and knew without doubt which he found most mesmerising.

"Dr Lightman." Amber's glossy bow lips wrapped themselves around his name. "This is your company."

Cal nodded. "That's right love. The woman who brought you in –"

"Ria," Amber informed him.

"Ria, right… did she tell you what we do here? Why we wanted to speak to you?"

"She said you needed my help in solving a crime." Her eyes shone with excitement. "Can I? Help?"

"I hope so." Cal glanced at Gillian, who stepped in.

"Amber, do you know a man called Adam Rayner?"

Amber slowly let her eyes travel from Cal to Gillian. "Are you a doctor too?"

"I'm a psychologist," Gillian told her, patiently waiting for Amber to answer the question.

"Adam's a doctor." Her lips curved up into a smile at the mention of his name. "Dr Rayner. But I call him Adam."

"How did you meet Adam?"

"At the hospital. I didn't feel well, and I went to the ER, and Adam was my doctor. He helped me."

Gillian nodded. "Did you see him after that?"

"Oh, yes. Adam's my friend. Whenever I go to the hospital, he helps me. We talk about things, and he takes me to the café for coffee sometimes. He's very nice to me."

Her use of the present tense hit both Cal and Gillian; meeting her partner's eyes briefly, Gillian leaned forward slightly, then asked softly, "Amber… do you know what happened to Adam?"

Amber's posture altered as her body stiffened. "He… he died," she said at last, her voice low and thick with emotion. The shine in her eyes had vanished.

"That's right. Somebody killed him."

"She did." Amber sniffed. "She hurt him. I saw it on the news."

"Do you mean Rachel?"

Amber nodded. "Rachel…"

The way she spoke Rachel's name, as though it tasted bitter on her tongue, jarred Cal slightly, as he recognised it as the way he'd been saying Eric's name for the last two days.

Shifting slightly in his chair, his movement caught Amber's eye, and she turned her attention back to him. "Thing is, we don't think Rachel did kill Adam. So, what we're trying to do now is figure out who did."

"But you're doctors." Amber flicked her gaze from Cal to Gillian and back. "You're not the police."

"No, but we help the police, sometimes, to solve cases. And right now, we're trying to work out who killed Adam."

"You were friends." Gillian seamlessly took over Cal's explanation. "So any information that you can give us about Adam could be really helpful. Do you know anyone who might want to hurt him?"

Amber frowned. "Adam is very nice."

Cal chewed his bottom lip as he appraised the woman in front of him. Her jealousy of Rachel and her obvious fondness for Adam would, in normal circumstances, have pointed him in the direction of either an affair or an unrequited crush, but something was amiss here. Amber was oscillating between excitement at helping the investigation and sadness and distress at Adam's death; she had spoken about him in the present tense, yet admitted she knew he was dead; and her repetitive description of Adam being 'very nice' coupled with the almost faraway expression in her eyes when saying that pointed at something very different altogether.

"So you can't think of anyone who would want to hurt him?" Gillian clarified.

Before Amber could reply, Cal jumped in with a question of his own. "Were you and Adam having an affair?"

Amber's eyebrows shot up for a fraction of a second, as her eyes widened slightly. "No."

"I believe you." She smiled at Cal's words.

"But you did like Adam?" Gillian pressed her.

"We're friends," Amber repeated, smiling again. "He understands me. He's nice to me. Lots of people aren't nice to me." A flicker of sadness clouded her face, but was replaced by a sunny smile. "Adam is always nice to me."

Gillian nodded. "Can you excuse us for a few moments, Amber? We'll be right back."

"Sure."

Glancing at Cal, Gillian stood, and her partner followed her to the door of the Cube. Once safely out of earshot, they turned to each other.

"She's slipping back into the present tense, talking about Adam as if he's still alive."

Cal nodded. "Yeah. She definitely seemed fond of him."

"It's more than that. You heard what Rachel said – Amber called him at home, and turned up at the house to see him. Rachel was telling the truth when she said that."

"And Amber was telling the truth when she said she and Adam weren't having an affair."

"Amber's attachment to Adam has enabled her to slip into denial about his death. When we spoke about it, she knew what had happened, and showed anger and resentment towards Rachel, naming her as the likely suspect. She's not totally blocked Adam's death from her mind, but she can easily switch off the knowledge that he was murdered and revert to her fantasy that she and Adam are friends."

"So, she was stalking this guy… for his friendship? Or was she hoping for something more? She didn't show any shame or guilt when I asked if she and Adam were having an affair." Cal sat down, swivelling the chair around to watch Amber in the Cube. She was filing her nails, looking relaxed and comfortable.

"I don't think she wanted a sexual relationship with him… her jealousy of Rachel seems to stem more from the fact that she shared a life with Adam, got to spend a lot of time with him. It's not just sexual relationships that can cause jealousy."

Cal glanced up at her, wondering if she realised just how accurate – and apt – her words were.

"So, she meets Adam at the hospital… she's lonely, and vulnerable, she wants someone to talk to. He's nice to her, she forms an attachment to him, and in her mind, they're friends. He indulges her, and she perceives it as friendship. It escalates, and she starts calling him at home and going to his house…" Cal paused, his eyes locked on Amber, as she put her nail file back in her bag and took out a small compact mirror and mascara. "Question is, did she kill him?"

Gillian exhaled, watching Amber touch up her eye makeup. "I don't know. Maybe."

"If she was obsessed with him, and he rejected her…"

"That could have caused her to snap, yes." Gillian nodded slowly. "Amber was not only deeply fond of Adam, she believed that they had a strong friendship. If Adam grew tired of her presence and finally told her to leave him alone…" She trailed off, but didn't have to finish her sentence for Cal to imagine what could have happened.

"If I ask her outright if she killed Adam, are you going to throw things at me later?"

Gillian's lips twitched slightly. "Tempted as I might be, no."

" 'cause I know what you're like with loopy lou's like this. Wanting to protect them and their fragile mental state, or however it is you usually phrase it when I push them too far."

"First of all, don't call her loopy. Secondly, I like to think I don't just have a stock response I use whenever you take things too far, although it wouldn't surprise me if after all this time I had started reusing some of the phrases. And thirdly… as fragile as her mental state may be, we need to see her reaction to being questioned about her possible involvement in Adam's death."

"Terrific." Cal stood up and strode towards the door.

"Cal?" He turned, his hand already on the door handle.

"Yeah?"

"Don't push her _too _far."

Cal grinned. "Wouldn't dream of it love." He swung open the door, and stepped inside. If the truth about Adam Rayner's death was in that room, he was going to find it.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own Lie to Me, or any of the characters. I just borrow them for my own amusement.**

Again, thanks for the feedback everyone… it's always nice to hear people are enjoying the story, and knowing which bits you liked will hopefully help me make future chapters even better :-] Sorry about the wait for this chapter; it's a bit of a long one, but hopefully worth it :-]

Chapter Eight

"Amber," Cal said, settling himself back down in the chair. He didn't even wait for Foster to take up her position beside him.

"Yes?" Amber snapped her mirror shut, popping it back in her bag and then giving Cal her full attention.

"Did you kill Adam Rayner?" Eyebrows raised for a second, eyes widened, lips stretched slightly, then turning down… surprise, then fear, then sadness.

"Adam…" she said quietly, as if just remembering he was dead.

Cal looked at Gillian, silently asking her if Amber understood what she'd just been asked.

"Amber?" Gillian prompted. "I know this is difficult for you to talk about, but we have to ask you. Did you hurt Adam?"

"I care about Adam," she said, stressing each word. "I would never hurt him."

Cal exhaled slowly, sitting back in his chair. She seemed to be telling the truth.

"But you did go to his house, didn't you? About three weeks ago. You spoke to Rachel," Gillian continued, and Cal watched Amber's face harden at the sound of Rachel's name.

"Yes, I went to his house. We're friends. I wanted to see him. Do you know the time?" She barely paused between comments.

"Er," Cal glanced at his watch, "twenty past five."

"Goodness! I must go!" She jumped up. "It's okay if I go?"

"Of course," Gillian answered her. "We appreciate you coming in today Amber. Maybe, if you have some time tomorrow, you could come back? There are still a few things I think you could help us with."

"Of course." No hesitation, just a simple, honest answer – she was planning on coming back. Cal stood up, and walked Amber outside. "Loker," he shouted, as he saw the young man walk past. "Could you walk Miss Floyd out of the building, please. Did you drive, love, or do you need a cab?"

"I got the bus," she told Cal.

"Get her a taxi will you? Put it on the company account." Loker didn't bother trying to hide his surprise, just nodded at his boss.

"Thank you." Amber seemed genuinely touched. "I'll see you tomorrow, yes?"

"Absolutely." Cal watched as she walked down the corridor with Loker, who didn't seem to mind his latest task too much, judging by the look on his face.

Back in the lab, Cal found Gillian reviewing the video of Amber's interview. "I would never hurt him." The look on Amber's face was exactly as Cal remembered it.

"She's telling the truth," he commented, walking up behind Foster, who didn't even turn around.

"She says she wouldn't hurt Adam… and I don't think she ever would want to hurt him, not when she's in her usual frame of mind. But you've seen how she can dissociate herself from the truth – slipping back into her fantasy that Adam is still alive, even though she has faced the fact that he's dead." Gillian turned to look at her partner. "Amber's obsession with Adam, if she fits the typical profile in this sort of case, means there are two distinct sides to her personality. When getting what she wants, or indulging in her fantasy lifestyle, she is content, calm, honest… and pleasant." She gestured to the frozen image on screen of Amber's friendly smile. "But there's another side to all of this that we haven't seen yet; her darker side. If Adam rejected Amber and she lashed out, she could have killed him. And that would have distressed her, because she cared about him, so her mind would have kicked in, wanting to protect her."

"Erasing her memory of what she'd done?"

Gillian nodded.

"So she could have killed Adam, and forgotten it?"

" 'Forgotten' isn't exactly the word I'd use, but in a manner of speaking, yes. This girl," Gillian tapped the image of Amber's face for emphasis, "cared about Adam. She believes, most of the time, that he's still alive. She thinks they're friends, that he cares for her the way she does for him. She would never want to hurt him."

"But she might have hurt him… this darker side of her?" Cal scrutinised the face before him, trying to imagine Amber reacting violently if rejected by Adam. The image came quite clearly – Amber's pretty face contorted by rage, her eyes shining not with excitement, but with fury, her confusion over his rejection and the sense of betrayal she'd have felt distorting her usually attractive features.

"The problem is, we haven't seen that side of Amber. And if she's mentally blocked out her involvement in Adam's death, questioning her will do no good. She'll say she had nothing to do with it, and she'll be telling the truth – because that's what she believes."

Cal nodded. "We'll sort it, love don't worry."

Gillian smiled. "I know we will." She glanced at the clock. "Eric should be back soon, he said he'd pop back tonight to see how we got on with Amber."

_What a surprise_. Cal resisted the urge to voice his thoughts out loud, opting instead for, "so tell me… how exactly d'you two know each other?"

Gillian hesitated slightly, her eyes skirting the floor for a second, and Cal grinned.

"Oh – ho – juicy story is it?"

"It's a very boring, mundane story, actually." She poked her tongue out at him. "We met in college. There." She headed out the door and along the corridor, Cal at her heels.

"Nah… got to be more to it than that. Come on Foster, spill."

"Since when are you so interested in Eric?" She stopped in the doorway of her office, one hand on her hip as she surveyed her partner, her eyes sparkling with humour.

"I've always been interested in Eric. Top bloke he is. One of my all-time favourite people in the entire universe, I reckon."

Gillian laughed and walked into her office. "I'll tell him you said that."

"Do. He'd be thrilled. He's desperate to impress me, can't you tell?"

Cal sat down in one of her chairs, noticing, not for the first time, how much more comfortable they seemed to be than the ones in his own office. Which was ridiculous, since they were identical.

Gillian sat down at her desk and started shuffling through papers. "Foster. It's gone five thirty. Call it a day already."

She raised her eyebrows at him. "Since when do you, Mr workaholic slavedriver, tell people to call it a day?"

"When I feel like it," he grinned. "And I'd hardly say I'm a slavedriver… my hardworking nature just rubs off on people, that's all."

"Whatever you say." She laughed, but left her desk and took a seat next to him on the other side of the room.

"So…" He gestured towards her, and was met by a blank look. "Your story, Foster. How you and Eric met. As I recall, we were just about to get to the interesting part."

"There _is _no interesting part, I told you. We met in college."

"You, a psychology student, him, a law student. You didn't meet through your course, so… what? Social activity?" He was dancing around the question he'd wanted to ask since first finding out that Eric and Gillian were old friends, and they both knew it. Whether or not she'd give him an answer tonight though…

"Mutual friend."

Cal nodded. "Male or female?"

"Why do you want to know so badly?" Her voice was laced with curiosity, but there was something else Cal couldn't quite place hidden under the layers.

"I'm a curious kinda guy."

"Fine. I was dating his roommate."

Cal nodded, the intensity of his gaze locked firmly on her. "Tell me more."

She broke eye contact, and stood up to cross the room. "Fancy a drink?" She waved the bottle of scotch she'd procured from behind one of the books on the shelf, and Cal laughed.

"Not got any slushies hidden back there?"

"Nope." She smiled at him as she retrieved two glasses, then sat back down next to Cal and started pouring. "Just the alcohol, and my happy box."

"Your what now?"

"My happy box." Embarrassment flickered over her face briefly. As close as she and Cal were, she'd never told anyone about that particular secret, and wasn't entirely sure why she'd divulged it just now. To change the subject off Eric, perhaps?

"And what exactly _is _a happy box?"

Cal watched the embarrassment on Gillian's face mingle with delight, and felt the familiar warmth spread through his body at the ease with which she could smile so beautifully.

Wordlessly, she stood up, and crossed the room again. Dragging a chair a few feet, she then stood it firmly next to the bookcase, and climbed up. Trying not to notice how her long, slim legs, perfectly shown off by the dress she was wearing, were now at eye level, Cal took a sip of scotch while he waited. Gillian reached up onto the top shelf, pushed aside a couple of books, and then stepped down off the chair clutching her sought-after treasure – an old shoe box. Returning to where Cal was sitting, somewhat hesitantly, she placed the box in front of him on the table, and resumed her seat at his side.

"Well, that fills me with so much happiness, I can't begin to tell you." He prodded the box lightly with one finger. "Wow."

"Shut up," she giggled. After a second's pause, she lifted the lid off the box. "These are things that make me happy," she confessed. "If I have a bad day, or I'm just feeling a bit blue, I look in this box, and there's always something to cheer me up."

Cal gestured to the box, silently asking if he was allowed to have a closer look, and Gillian nodded. It felt like he was invading her privacy, somehow, but curiosity was burning through him, and she _had _told him about the box _and _brought it down to show him.

Reaching inside, the first thing he saw was a large bar of chocolate, and didn't even bother to suppress a laugh. "Shocking," he said, lifting it up. "So you keep this in here all the time, and never eat it? Just looking at it cheers you up?"

"Well," she said, a small smile playing on her lips, "that might be the one thing in the box that does have to be, uh, replenished occasionally."

He grinned and reached inside again, suddenly desperate to know more things that made Gillian Foster happy. His fingers brushed against cool metal, and he pulled out a charm bracelet. A happy smile spread across Gillian's face at the sight of it. _Wow_, he thought, _this stuff really works._

"My grandmother gave me this on my twenty first birthday." She took the bracelet from him, fingering the attached charms. He watched her delicate fingers trace each charm in turn – a book, a rocking horse, a spoon…

"A spoon?" He laughed. "What's that represent then?"

"My excellent cooking," she said, far too quickly, and he raised an eyebrow at her questioningly. "Okay… my love of food," she admitted, and after a second joined in his laughter.

"So chocolate, a bracelet that represents food… got anything in here along a different line?" he joked.

She reached forwards and picked up the box, placing it on her lap. "This is the gymnastics medal I won when I was eight," she said, looping the ribbon round her wrist, "this is my letter of acceptance from Harvard, this is my favourite book…" Pride and Prejudice. That he already knew, and the thought made him smile. "This is the programme from a play I did at school… Romeo and Juliet."

"Juliet?" he guessed.

"Assistant lighting," she corrected, and he chuckled.

"This is the wristband from the first nightclub I ever went to," she said, slipping the small blue band onto her wrist, where it joined the red of the gymnastic medal's ribbon. The movie _It's a Wonderful Life_ followed, which Cal had also known was one of her favourites, and a small model of the Eiffel Tower. "To remind me of Paris," she said needlessly, and Cal nodded. He already knew she's spent twelve months living in Paris after leaving college.

Piling the treasures she'd already shared with Cal on the table, Gillian knew there wasn't that much left in the box. There were a couple of photos in the bottom, and Gillian pulled the top one out first – the one she didn't have a problem sharing.

"What the hell…" Cal took the photo from her, his mouth dropping open slightly.

"Halloween." She giggled. "That's Megan, my best friend in college. We went as Wonderwoman and Catwoman."

"I can see that." Cal was having trouble forming words at all as he gazed at the picture of Gillian, younger than he'd ever known her but just as beautiful, wearing a tight-fitting black dress with a plunging neckline and furry black cat ears.

"Megan was great," Gillian reminisced. "Really funny. We always had such a laugh. She's a professional photographer now, back living in Boston where she grew up."

Gillian could have been standing next to Marlon Brando and Cal wouldn't have noticed – he had eyes for only one person in the photo, and it sure as hell wasn't Megan the photographer from Boston.

"I haven't seen her for ages," Gillian continued, "but this photo always makes me smile."

Cal finally tore his eyes away from the photo, tossing it onto the pile on the table. "Cute." _Not exactly the word for it, Cal_, he thought, inwardly rolling his eyes at himself. "Anything else in there?"

"Just another photo." She bit her bottom lip for a fraction of a second, and Cal had an idea what the photo was.

"Your wedding." Her eyes flew up to his, surprised. "Hardly surprising, love. What woman doesn't like looking at herself in a wedding dress? However things worked out for you and Alec, that was a good day, wasn't it?" _For you, at least_. "Anyway, you looked beautiful in your dress. 'Course looking at a photo of it would make you happy."

"It's not…" She didn't know why she was surprised at his assumption that the last photo in the box was of her and Alec – thinking about it, it was a reasonable assumption, even if they were in the middle of a divorce.

She lifted the photo from the box, and silently handed it to Cal. She saw the surprise register on his face for less than a second, and a microexpression of happiness. _Well, that's what the box is for, Gillian_, she told herself.

Cal stared at the photo in his hands. It showed him and Gillian, seven years ago, outside the Lightman Group building. They had their arms around each other, laughing as they posed for the camera.

"Our first day." He knew that, of course, she didn't have to tell him. He remembered it as if it were yesterday.

"That was a good day," he agreed quietly.

She nodded, slipping the photo from his hands and taking it into her own. Of course the photo was about more than the opening of the company they'd built together, and they both knew it, but Cal wasn't going to call her on it, and for that Gillian was extremely grateful.

"So, no pictures of you and Eric in there?" he joked. _And no Alec_, he couldn't help noting. There must have been, though, before the divorce. If not the wedding, then something else. _Has she always had that picture of us in there?_ he couldn't help wondering.

Gillian jarred him from his thoughts with a playful swat on the arm. "Speaking of Eric… weren't you in the middle of telling me about how you two met? You were dating his roommate… things didn't work out, I take it?"

"No, they did. We got married and had six children and now live in a beautiful villa in Tuscany."

He laughed, and waited for her to elaborate. She started piling things back in her box, feeling his eyes on her, waiting.

"I was dating his roommate, Steve. We were together for, I don't know, eight months or so. Eric and I became friends. Then Steve and I broke up, and Eric and I stayed friends."

Cal hadn't missed the flash of anger on her face when she mentioned Steve, and even though he knew he was treading on dangerous ground admitting he was reading her like this, pressed ahead with his question. "He treated you badly?"

"He cheated on me."

Cal felt anger akin to her own coursing through his own veins, which was ridiculous, he told himself. _You didn't even know the guy, and it was years ago. And it's not like it's emotionally scarred her for life or anything. _But this guy, and Alec… why were some men incapable of seeing a good thing when they had it? How anyone could cheat on Gillian, who was just the most fantastic, lovely… He allowed his thoughts to drift back to the present, noticing a slight smile on her face. "What?"

"Nothing," she said, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ears. "You've just got that protective look about you. It was years ago, Cal. It wasn't a big deal. I wasn't in love with him. He just drunkenly screwed a freshman at a party, and he and Eric fell out over it. Switched rooms. End of their friendship. Eric and I stayed friends."

She felt guilty, he could tell that, although it was hardly her fault her idiot of a boyfriend hadn't been able to keep it in his pants. "So he chose you over his mate. You must have been good friends."

"We were." She echoed his use of the past tense, and he leapt on it.

"Didn't keep in touch, though?"

"Sporadically. I haven't seen him since I moved to D.C, although we emailed a few times, spoke on the phone around Christmas, we used to send each other birthday cards…" She shrugged. "People lose touch, you know? But it's great to see him again, and catch up. He was a close friend."

"He wasn't at your wedding."

"No, he… couldn't make it." The slight hesitation in Gillian's voice, invisible to anyone else, caused Cal to lift his eyes to her, understanding dawning on his face.

"Couldn't bear to see you marry another man, right?" Gillian's blush confirmed his suspicions, and Cal concentrated his attention on pouring them both another drink, lest she should read the thoughts racing through his mind. _The irony,_ he thought, _oh, the irony_.

They lapsed into silence, which was then broken by a knock at the door. "Gillian?"

"Come in," she called, quickly putting the lid back on her shoebox.

_Not for just anyone to see_, Cal thought, secretly thrilled that she'd trusted him with her lovely little secret. It was so typically Foster, keeping a box of memories and favourite things to cheer her up. Was that the secret to her almost unwavering chirpiness? Of course, he'd seen sadness from her before, but she managed to bounce back from any heartache with more warmth, humour and grace than anyone he'd ever known. _Is that because of this box_?

His thoughts were broken by Eric's arrival in the room, and Cal watched as his eyes travelled from Gillian to Cal, sweeping past the bottle of scotch and glasses, glancing briefly at the clock before returning his attention to Gillian. "I wasn't sure you'd still be here."

Cal glanced at the clock, noticing that it was nearing six thirty. Where had the time gone? The darkness that was creeping in from outside should have been a clue. He reached behind Foster and flicked on her lamp, catching Eric's reaction to his close proximity to her. Anger. Well concealed and brief, but it was there. Trying to resist the urge to smirk, Cal stood up.

"Well, I'd better be going. Still got some stuff to do before I head home, you know what it's like for us workaholics." He winked at Foster, and she smiled in return.

Standing up, he headed towards the door, giving Eric a brief nod as he passed him. "Eric."

"Dr Lightman," he replied pleasantly. "How did things go with Amber?"

"Oh, I'll let Dr Foster fill you in on that. I'm sure nothing would make her happier. Well… perhaps one or two things." His eyes flashed to the box, before meeting Gillian's gaze, seeing the corners of her mouth turning up slightly.

"Night, Cal."

"Night, love."

He closed the door softly behind him, not even feeling jealous at the idea of leaving Eric and Gillian in her office together. _Perhaps I should make one of those boxes of my own_, he thought as he headed down the corridor to his office. Mentally checking off a list of things that could go in there, he'd already reached a dozen by the time he reached his destination. Lots of Emily things – photos, a friendship bracelet she'd made him when she was about eight, the first Father's day card she'd made for him, proclaiming him to be "the bestest dad in the whole world, ever", their plane tickets from the time he'd taken her to London when she was eleven. The rest of the things on his list weren't Emily related, but rather to do with someone else, someone who always made him feel happier. _And I make her happy too_. That thought alone was enough to lift his spirits, more than any object in a box ever could.

A/N Chapter 9 hopefully won't be too far behind… it's already half written!


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I don't own Lie to Me or any of the characters.**

Chapter Nine

The door closed behind Cal, and Eric lingered for a moment, before making the decision to take a seat next to Gillian. He could still smell Lightman's aftershave in the room, and his unfinished drink sat on the table right in front of him. The atmosphere when he'd entered the room had been relaxed and friendly; two people sharing a drink after work, chatting… so why did he feel so damn uncomfortable?

"You and Dr Lightman seem pretty close." To anyone else, it may have seemed like a casual comment, but Gillian could see the slight tension in Eric's face, and hear the touch of jealousy in his voice. Part of her wanted to sigh or roll her eyes in frustration – why could these two not get along with each other, without any of this petty jealousy and caveman need to defend their friendship with her? Another part of her, however, couldn't help but feel a little flattered; not that she'd ever really doubted how much their friendship meant to Cal, but in a way his jealousy of an old friend of hers was rather sweet. _Not that I'd admit that to him_, she thought, trying to hide a smile.

As for Eric's jealousy… Gillian wasn't blind to the fact that he was attracted to her, just like he had been when they were in college. Then, she'd been dating someone, and Eric always knew nothing could happen between them. When she and Steve broke up, he hadn't wanted to step in too soon. Then she'd started dating someone else, and then she was married. Now, she was divorced, and as much as she knew Eric was a professional – and a gentleman – she wouldn't be surprised if he was hoping something more than friendship could develop between them.

Giving him a smile that she hoped conveyed friendship and nothing more, Gillian tried to answer his question, but in all honesty found it quite difficult to summarise her friendship with Cal. "Yes, we are," she said at last. "We've known each other a long time, and we work well together."

Eric nodded. "He seems to… understand you. And vice versa. Personally, I find him a bit of a mystery. Not in a bad way," he added in a rush, as though afraid he might have offended Gillian by insulting Cal.

"It's okay." She laughed. "Cal can be a very complex person. I wouldn't say I understand him completely, but… I would say I know him pretty well."

"He's not married?"

"Divorced." Anticipating where this conversation was heading, Gillian tried to steer it in a different direction. "So, we had an interesting afternoon with Amber." She quickly filled Eric in on all that had happened earlier. "We informed the police that we considered her a potential suspect, but Inspector Hunt has been less than supportive." She wrinkled her nose.

"Hmm." Eric's distaste for Hunt was evident. "He's convinced Rachel is guilty; he refused to even consider the possibility that someone else could be responsible. Of course, we didn't have any other leads before. Now," his eyes shone with an almost child-like excitement, "we have Amber. If you can get something out of her – a confession, or some information, or _anything_, really, that we can take to Hunt…" He inhaled deeply. "I promised Rachel I'd get her out of prison. Thanks to you, that could soon become a reality."

"Well, it's not just me." Gillian blushed slightly, but smiled. "We're a team here."

Eric nodded. "I just have a positive feeling. When Amber comes back tomorrow, we'll get the answers we need."

"I hope so," Gillian said.

"So… do you have any dinner plans for tonight?"

"I've got a carton of soup at home with my name written on it."

Eric laughed. "Fancy a proper dinner?"

"Eric…" Gillian trailed off, unsure quite how to phrase what she knew she had to say. "It's been great to see you again, and catch up on old times, and last night was lovely. But dinner out, two nights in a row, feels like… it feels like more than friends do," she finished lamely.

"I see," Eric said quietly. "So you've never had dinner with Lightman two nights in a row?" He'd dropped the 'Dr' from Cal's name, which didn't escape Gillian's attention.

"Not interrupting anything am I?" As if on cue, Cal strolled into Foster's office, looking like he didn't care if he was or not. Gillian wasn't sure whether to be pleased to see him or not, and opted for a blank expression that he could interpret any way he liked.

"Fancy a bite to eat?" The question was directed clearly at her, and Gillian felt a stab of annoyance at Cal's rudeness towards Eric. She might have rebuffed his invitation to dinner only minutes ago, but Eric was a decent man and an old friend, and Cal pointedly ignoring him like that didn't show her partner's best side.

"No thanks," she said, the usual lack of warmth in her voice a clear signal to Cal that he'd irritated her.

"Both of you, I mean," he said, waving his hand towards Eric, and caught Gillian rolling her eyes.

"I thought you were busy working?" Eric pointed out.

Cal shrugged. "I was. Then I got peckish. Thought you two might be too."

"I'm heading home," Gillian said, standing up and scooping her bag up off the floor. "I'll see you both tomorrow."

Cal nodded, and moved aside to allow her a clear path to the door.

"Enjoy your soup." Gillian wondered if Eric's poorly concealed smile was because they were sharing a small joke with each other, or because that joke was a private one which achieved the objective of excluding Cal.

"I will," she answered. "Goodnight." She glanced at both of them briefly when she said this, and turned to the door.

"Goodnight." Eric got in there first, but Cal was right behind him.

"Night love."

Walking down the corridor on her way out of the building, Gillian felt the same mixture of annoyance and secret pleasure she'd felt earlier. With the latter emotion came shame, as she tried to stop herself feeling this way. _You're not sixteen anymore Gillian_, she told herself. _You shouldn't be happy that two guys are acting this way around you_. She'd felt so content earlier, sharing her box with Cal. Things were so easy for them most of the time, and now… But was it Eric's fault that things had changed? Yes, Cal was acting like an ass around him, but that wasn't Eric's fault.

Gillian headed across the car park, wondering what Cal and Eric were talking about now that she'd left. A slight smile crossed her face as she imagined the scenario between the two; neither would want to be the first to leave, that she was sure of. Cal would try and make some excuse to stay in her office a little longer, just to make it clear to Eric where he stood, and Eric… well, he was a lawyer. He could argue black was blue and say it with conviction, and he had a stubborn streak that Gillian had only seen rivalled by Cal himself.

Stopping suddenly, Gillian realised she'd walked right past her car. Rolling her eyes at herself, she turned around and headed back towards it, her mind still on the two men in her office. She climbed into her car and pulled out of the space and drove towards the road. As she signalled left to turn onto the main street, she glanced quickly back up at her office. Her eyes found it immediately, and not just because she'd worked there long enough to know its precise location; it was also the only room in the building that still had the lights on. Gillian shook her head in amusement and pulled the car out, chuckling softly to herself.


	10. Chapter 10

Thanks again to everyone who has reviewed this story… I really appreciate you all taking this journey with me :-] Last chapter was a bit of a short one, but this one is a little longer. Hope you like :-]

**Disclaimer: I don't own Lie to Me or any of the characters**.

Chapter Ten

Gillian scooted up the steps outside the Lightman Group building the next morning clutching her bag, a folder, a cup of coffee and a stack of mail that she hadn't had time to open at home. Somehow she managed to push open the double doors whilst still holding everything, although her coffee cup did come dangerously close to sliding from her grasp.

"Woah." Dave, the security guard, leapt forward and caught the cup as it toppled forward, spilling only a few drops onto the tiled floor. "You okay there Dr G?" It was an affectionate nickname he'd adopted when he first started at the company three years ago, and it had stuck.

Gillian smiled. "Thanks, Dave. I'm fine, just somewhat overloaded." She readjusted her grip on her morning beverage and walked across the lobby, her black heels making a loud clicking noise as she went.

"Oh, Dr G?"

She spun on her heel at the sound of his words.

"Yes?"

"Looking good today." He winked at her. She laughed, then continued her journey towards the elevator.

The doors slid open and she stepped in, clumsily balancing her papers on her knee as she fumbled for the button for floor six. "Hold the lift, love." Even after two decades in the States, Cal still refused to give anything its American name. Not that Gillian was complaining – she'd always found his language and accent rather endearing.

"Good morning," she said, as he squeezed into the elevator a nanosecond before the door shut. "You eventually managed to drag yourself out of the building last night then?" She raised her eyebrows a fraction, but he pretended not to notice.

"Eventually, yeah. 'Course, I did quite a lot of work first… total workaholic me, you know that."

"I do indeed." She attempted to take a sip of her coffee, but while trying to lift the cup a couple of her envelopes slid to the floor. "Damn."

"Let me help you love." He reached out and took the coffee from her.

"Thanks," she said, wondering briefly why he hadn't picked the papers up instead. "I had so much mail this morning, I thought it'd be easier to go through it at the office," she explained as she scooped down to pick up the dropped envelopes. Standing up, she saw Cal leisurely sipping her coffee.

"So, Amber Floyd, round two. You ready?"

"Aren't I always?" she answered. The doors opened and they walked out together, heading down the corridor towards Gillian's office. She pushed open the door with her foot, then dumped her folder and mail on the desk. Cal walked in behind her, still drinking her coffee. "Thank you," she said pointedly, holding out her now free hand.

"What? Oh. Sorry." He proffered the cup, and she took it with a small smile.

"Torres and Loker okay to wrap up the Layton case by themselves? I'm assuming you want me in with you this morning."

"I always want you, love," he told her, prompting a quiet laugh from Gillian. "And yeah, they'll be fine."

She nodded. "Okay. Let me know when she gets here."

"Will do." He started towards the door, then, just when she thought he'd gone, poked his head back round. "Oh, and Foster?"

"Yes?"

"You really ought to cut down on your sugar. Bleurgh." He gestured to the coffee cup, making a disgusted face, and then was gone, leaving Gillian chuckling quietly to herself as she sat down to read her mail before Amber Floyd arrived. It was certainly going to be an interesting day.

The message came through at just after half past ten. "Foster," his voice crackled through on the intercom. "I need you now."

"On my way," she answered, guessing correctly that Amber had arrived. She straightened her dress as she stood up, and headed out of her office and down the corridor to the Cube, where she met Cal outside.

"Amber," he was saying as she approached. "Thanks for coming back today. Dr Foster and I just had a few more questions for you, if that's okay?"

"Of course." She smiled, that same butter-wouldn't-melt smile they'd seen yesterday. Gillian raked her eyes over the young woman's face, trying to ascertain if she could really be responsible for a brutal murder.

"Is it okay if we run a few tests while we interview you?" Gillian asked her, and Amber's smile faltered.

"What kind of tests?"

"Nothing that will hurt – we just want to measure your heart rate, skin temperature, breathing patterns… things like that."

"Why?" Her blunt question reminded Gillian so much of a child; the way she needed an answer, the innocence and confusion on her face.

Gillian opened her mouth to reply, but Cal jumped in before she could utter her first syllable. "It's just what we do here. It'll help us know how you're feeling, and we'll be able to get at the truth much easier. That's what you want, isn't it? To help us find out what happened to Adam?"

Amber nodded slowly. "Adam… yes. I want to help him. I'll help you."

"Great. This way then," Cal said, gesturing towards the door, shooting Gillian a quick, 'how do you want to handle this one?' look, and she shrugged slightly, meaning 'just play it by ear'. He nodded. The whole exchange took less than five seconds, but they'd just communicated more than most people did in five minutes of conversation.

Ten minutes later, everything was in place, and Loker sat outside carefully watching the monitors and, if he was honest, the very attractive woman on the screen in front of him. True, she might be a bit ga-ga, he reflected, but that didn't mean he couldn't appreciate a good thing when he saw it. Couple her with Dr Foster in a figure-hugging moss-green dress, and it was shaping up to be a pretty good day at the office.

"So, Amber," Gillian began. "Let's talk some more about Adam. Can you describe your friendship?"

"Adam was a good friend," Amber said emphatically. Gillian glanced at Cal, wondering if he'd noticed she was using the past tense now when referring to Adam, which of course he had. He gave her the merest nod to show he had indeed picked up on it, and Gillian continued.

"Why was he a good friend?"

Amber paused, looking as deep in thought as a blonde with glossy pink lipstick and six-inch heels could look, Loker thought, noticing how her heart rate increased slightly when Adam was mentioned.

"He understood me, and he was nice to me. If I felt… scared, or unhappy, or… not well…" she broke off, and swallowed. "He was there for me, he made me feel better. You know when you have a friend who understands you, and knows what you need, and really cares about you – someone that you know you would do anything for?"

Gillian nodded, sensing Cal's eyes flick briefly to her, but keeping her own trained firmly on Amber.

"Well, Adam was like that to me. He was so nice to me."

"I'm sorry you had to lose him," Gillian told her, and sadness overtook Amber's face.

"Me too," she said quietly. "Poor Adam."

After a beat, Gillian interrupted her silent lament with another question. "Did you and Adam ever argue?"

Outside the Cube, Loker watched the monitors spike as Amber's heart rate increased, and her skin temperature shot up. Not that Lightman would need him to inform him of that, he thought, especially when Amber said "no, never."

"Is that the truth, Amber?" Cal asked her, leaning forwards to scan her face with his usual level of intense scrutiny.

"I…"

" 'cause everyone has arguments, don't they? It's a healthy part of a relationship, right? You fight, you make up." He reflected briefly on the arguments he'd had with Foster over the years; thank God his penchant for sticking his foot in his mouth on occasion hadn't irreparably damaged their friendship.

"I suppose." She licked her lips, clearly nervous.

"Did you argue with Adam before he died?"

"We didn't argue." Anger flashed across her face. "We just… had a misunderstanding, really. That's all it was."

"A misunderstanding about what?" Gillian tried to keep her tone soft, but curiosity was burning through her, along with an unshakeable desire to wrench the truth from Amber, no matter what. _But that's Cal's job_, she thought wryly. _You're the patient one, Gillian. Don't change course now._

"It was Rachel's fault." Disgust and contempt registered on her face as she spoke Rachel's name. "She tried to turn him against me. It wasn't his fault."

"Why wouldn't Rachel want you and Adam to be friends?" It was like getting blood out of a stone, but Gillian knew if they pushed Amber too hard, she'd shut down altogether.

Amber shrugged. "She's a control freak. She didn't want him having friends."

"Did Adam tell you to leave him alone?" Gillian felt herself take in a slightly deeper breath as she waited for Amber's response.

"He…" She broke off abruptly. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

Gillian glanced at Cal, who took over seamlessly. "You want to find out what happened to Adam, Amber? Or are you scared?"

"Scared? Of what?" There was definitely fear in her blue eyes, but Cal saw a raw vulnerability there that made him feel strangely protective of this deluded, mixed-up woman.

"Are you scared of finding out something you didn't want to know?" he asked her gently.

Amber sat still, her gaze locked on Cal's. "I don't think I can help you Dr Lightman," she told him, gently tugging at the wires that were attached to her arm and temple. "Can I go?" She stood up, silently challenging Cal to tell her she couldn't leave.

Cal glanced at Loker, wordlessly giving him the message that Amber Floyd wasn't to go anywhere. Obediently, Loker stood up and reached for the phone.

"What's going on?" She looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights, and Gillian stood up, reaching an arm towards her.

"Amber." She tried to catch her arm to comfort her, but Amber stepped towards the door.

"What's going on?" she repeated, looking outside the Cube, her eyes locking on Loker. "Who's he talking to? What are you going to do to me?"

"Amber. Listen to me." Cal stood up, and took hold of her shoulders, steadying her as she started swaying on the spot. "No one is going to hurt you, okay? I promise you that. Now I think you got hurt, when you were younger, a kid maybe. I think somebody hurt you, and I think that because of that you need to find people to be nice to you, friends, am I right? So you don't feel so alone." Amber stood still, but didn't answer. "We're not here to hurt you, love," he said, lowering his voice. "I'm actually more interested in helping you."

Loker's voice broke through into the room, which suddenly felt too small for the three people that were in it. "Er, Dr Lightman? You might want to come out here."

Cal looked up at Loker, then glanced at Gillian, who nodded. Releasing Amber's shoulders, he gently directed her back towards the chair. "Amber," he said, "I need you to just sit here for a little while, okay? I need to go and talk to my colleague out there, but remember my promise?"

"No one is going to hurt me," she repeated, an almost haunted look in her eyes that Cal found deeply chilling. Foster might be the expert on these matters far more than him, but if this girl hadn't been abused as a child, he'd been extremely surprised.

"That's right," he said softly. "So you just sit tight, and we'll be back really soon, okay?"

"Okay," she answered dully. The spark was gone from her eyes, the spring in her step vanishing as she stiffly lowered herself onto the chair. It was as if she'd just had a dose of Valium.

Cal appraised her for a few seconds then, convinced she was alright, at least for the moment, walked to the door where Gillian stood, waiting.

"You spoke to the police?" Cal asked Loker as soon as they were outside and out of Amber's earshot.

"In a manner of speaking, yes."

"Let me guess – Inspector Hunt was less than ecstatic to hear that someone besides Rachel Thomas was responsible for Adam's murder?"

Loker nodded at his boss. "I managed to get Hunt on the phone." The way he said it told Cal that Loker had had to be somewhat creative with the truth to wrangle that one.

"And?"

"His official verdict is that the evidence against Rachel is indisputable, although he is naturally very interested in justice and will of course investigate any other possible leads when the need arises. Translation: he doesn't give a toss."

"That girl," Cal said, pointing his finger towards the Cube, "needs help. Now I'm not thrilled at the idea of her being thrown into jail, but right now an innocent woman is locked in a cell wondering if she'll ever see the light of day again, and I want the truth to be known. So Inspector Hunt is going to listen to us."

"Hey," Loker threw up his hands in defence, "I want the same thing. So if you've got any ideas…" _Of course he's got an idea_, he thought. _He's Cal Lightman_.

"Well," Cal began, but was interrupted by Reynolds, pushing the door open with full force and barraging into the room. Cal looked up, too intrigued by Reynolds' sudden appearance to be bothered by the fact that he'd just been interrupted mid-thought.

"Check it out." Reynolds strode towards them, clutching a fistful of papers.

"What have you got?" Gillian looked up at him.

"I did a little research on our friend Amber in there – starting with this." He showed Gillian the newspaper article they'd seen the day before about Amber's brawl outside the mall.

"Her catfight in LA?" Gillian took the piece of paper from him. "What more did you find out?"

"The woman she was fighting with, Angelina Freemont?" Gillian nodded. "Three weeks after her fight with Amber, she hit the headlines again. Take a look at this." He produced another piece of paper, and Gillian took it, her eyes scanning it quickly.

"Her husband was murdered?"

"Stabbed to death in their home. No arrests were made; police thought it was a robbery gone wrong, but never found anyone. So I started looking further," he continued, before Gillian or Cal could interrupt. "Boston, a year ago. Robert Jackson, a computer technician, stabbed to death in his home. Chicago, six months ago. Stephen Laker, a psychiatrist. Stabbed to death while working late in his office." He spread the papers out on the desk; incident reports, newspaper articles, photographs of the victims. "No arrests made in any of these cases, and the dates all fit. Boston, LA, Chicago… she was there."

"Oh my God." Gillian stared at the papers, horrified, before glancing up at Amber, who was sat quietly in the Cube, once again filing her nails. "She's done this before."


	11. Chapter 11

So, here's chapter eleven! The last part of this chapter has been written for a long time, since around the time I wrote chapter five, and hopefully I've managed to write this whole chapter as well as I'd hoped. It's quite a long one… I considered breaking it into two shorter chapters, but then I thought, what's the point, the last part's written… might as well give it to you all in one go! Anyway, hope you enjoy… reviews very appreciated :-]

**Disclaimer: I don't own Lie to Me or any of the characters**

Chapter Eleven

Gillian continued to stare at the evidence laid before her, horror mixing with a strange feeling that this made sense somehow. "I should have known," she said, causing Cal to lift his eyes to her questioningly. "Amber's behaviour pattern, her dissociation with the truth… she was obsessed with Adam, he rejected her, and she mentally changed – lashed out in intense anger. It most likely stems from a traumatic event in her past."

"Abuse," Cal said, switching his gaze from Gillian to Amber, but his partner shook her head slightly.

"Not necessarily. I think… I think the catalyst for this was a destructive relationship… this could have all started with a murder. Someone she cared about, her father, an uncle, close family friend… they betrayed her, or rejected her… and she might have killed him."

"So then she starts looking for other men to be nice to her, other 'friends'," Cal supplied, and Gillian nodded emphatically. "But rejection is still a trigger for her. If these men push her away, she'll react in the same way she did the first time. I should have known," she repeated, angry with herself. "I could feel there was something more going on here, something that ran deeper than just an argument gone wrong… I should have realised this wasn't her first time."

"Excuse me," Reynolds interrupted, irritation evident in his voice. "If you two are done psycho-analysing this chick, can we get back to the important matter of proving she's a serial killer?"

"It wouldn't have made any difference, love," Cal said, ignoring Reynolds. He briefly squeezed Foster's shoulder. "What's done is done. All we need to do is make sure this doesn't happen again. And that Rachel Thomas doesn't spend the rest of her life in prison for something she didn't do."

"It won't be easy, unless we can find evidence against her. I don't know how to elicit a confession from her… her mind is so protective of her, she's blocked out all the negativity. She probably doesn't know she's killed any of these men." Gillian waved her hands over the files.

"Scary," Loker commented, and the other three turned to look at him. "I mean… I know they say women are crazy, but this just takes it to a whole new level. Look at her." He gestured towards Amber while Gillian narrowed her eyes at him slightly. "She looks like a model or a cheerleader, not an ice cold killer. And if the crazy women in this world become harder to spot, things just got a whole lot harder for the rest of us."

"Thanks for that Loker," Cal said sarcastically, then turned back to Reynolds. "What you've found should be enough for her to be held in custody for a while though, right? Not that I like the idea of her being locked up in a jail cell."

"I've faxed through what I found to the officer in charge of the investigation, what he'll do with it, I don't know. It's proof that Amber was living in the same city at the same time as men who were killed with the same MO, but it's not concrete proof that she's responsible, or that Rachel's innocent."

"I need to call Eric," Gillian said, heading towards the door.

"Don't you think we should talk to her again?" Cal asked pointedly, not bothering to hide his opinion that Gillian's presence in the Cube right now was more important than keeping Eric up to speed.

She shook her head. "We've questioned her enough for now. I don't think we'll get anymore out of her today. Wait and see how the police want to handle it." She left the room, and Cal paused only briefly before heading towards the door to the Cube.

"Didn't Foster say…" Loker began.

"Shut it," was Cal's ineloquent reply, and he pushed open the door to the Cube and sat himself down opposite Amber.

"Amber," he said, as she smiled up at him, putting her nail file away in her bag.

"Can I go now?"

"You might have to talk to the police, after you leave here." He watched her face closely, as fear flashed in her eyes.

"Why?"

"They're just trying to find out what happened to Adam. And I know that you want to help them do that, don't you? You want to help Adam."

Her plump lips made a perfect O shape as she considered what to say next. "I don't really like the police. Can't I stay here to answer questions?"

"'Fraid not, love. You know what coppers are like, need to be in control all the time, do things their way. But I promise you," he leant forwards, "they won't hurt you. No one is going to hurt you, or make you feel like you have to do something you don't want to do, okay?"

"What do you mean?" she asked slowly, as if she were trying to process a complex mathematical problem.

"I know sometimes it's easy to do something that you know you shouldn't, because you just react to things, right? You say something that you know you shouldn't to someone that you care about, and it's not because you want to hurt them, it's because you're upset, or angry, or jealous, or a number of other emotions, right?"

"Is he still talking about Amber and Adam?" Loker asked lightly, and Reynolds raised his eyebrows at him.

"Just focus on what you're meant to be doing, why don't you?"

"Hey, Amber removed all the wires. All I'm seeing is what Lightman's seeing," Loker told him. _Not even as much as Lightman's seeing_, he couldn't help adding in his head.

"And when people hurt you, sometimes even without meaning to, it can change you a little bit. Make you do things that you're ashamed of, things that you wouldn't normally do. Right?"

"I… I suppose." There it was. Shame.

Cal sat back in his chair; ordinarily, he would have snatched at that sign like a pigeon scrabbling for a crumb, snatching at it with a sense of excitement and triumph. But there was too much sorrow here, too many lives had been lost, and Amber's life had certainly be ruined by whatever it was that had happened to her when she was younger.

"What did you do, Amber?" he asked her quietly.

She kept her eyes downcast. "I… I don't want to talk about it." She stood up, her eyes shining with tears. "I want to leave now. Can I leave? I want to leave."

Cal looked up, as the door from the corridor opened and two uniformed officers stepped in, prompting a strangled cry from Amber. Behind the officers stood Gillian, her hands on her hips, shaking her head slightly when her eyes met Cal's.

"Amber," he said, reaching out for her arm, "just remember what I told you, okay? They want to talk to you, but they won't hurt you… we just want to help you." Gillian opened the door to the Cube, and the two men stepped inside.

"Amber Floyd?" the first one said. "I'm Officer Dempsey. We'd like to ask you a few questions at the station. Is that okay?" He was trying his hardest to speak gently, although he couldn't keep the formality from his voice. He had, Cal would have bet money on it, already been given strict instructions by Foster as to how to handle Amber.

"Okay," she said, although her voice wavered a little. "Are you coming with me?" she asked Cal, who could do no more than shake his head sadly. He watched as the two officers led Amber from the Cube and out the door. One of them stopped to say something briefly to Gillian as he passed, and she nodded, then looked at Reynolds, who followed Amber and the officers out of the room.

After the door closed, Cal stayed in the Cube for a few minutes. Gillian turned towards Loker, but her attention was regained by a crashing sound. Turning, she saw the chair on its side, against the glass wall, and Cal bearing his lips in anger and frustration.

"Why don't you go and see if Torres needs any help with the Layton case," Foster said, and Loker stood up, taking the hint. He was used to Lightman and Foster giving him the brush off and requiring him to be elsewhere so they could talk in private; not that he minded right now. Lightman had a temper, that Loker knew, but if anyone could calm him down it was Gillian Foster.

With Loker gone, Gillian walked slowly towards the door. "You okay?"

"Fantastic," he answered.

She stepped in, and wordlessly picked up the chair and stood it back upright. "She'll be okay."

"How d'you know?"

"She'll get the help she needs. There's evidence there somewhere, there has to be. Rachel will be released, and Amber can get proper psychiatric help."

"Win-win," Cal muttered, and Gillian touched his arm lightly.

"You don't usually let cases get to you this much."

"Yeah… well…" He wasn't sure how to answer her, wasn't even sure himself why he felt so caught up in this case, so determined to see justice done for everyone involved.

"If anyone should feel bad about this, it's me. I should have picked up on this yesterday."

"A day makes no difference," he told her again. "I just can't believe it was never picked up before. What the bloody hell were the police across the rest of the country doing when they were supposed to be investigating these murders?"

Gillian shrugged, exhaling softly.

"Gillian." She looked up, as did Cal. "Dr Lightman," Eric added.

Cal felt his jaw set slightly. "Eric," he said, and together he and Gillian exited the Cube and joined Eric outside.

"Gill told me what happened," Eric said. "I can't believe it. I'm petitioning for all charges against Rachel to be dropped immediately in light of new evidence. We're nearly there… and it's all thanks to you." To his credit, he looked at Cal as much as Gillian when he said that, not that that made Cal feel much better.

"Yeah, well, we do what we're paid to do," Cal said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"I don't believe that. Gillian told me that you chase the truth no matter what – you're a man driven by justice and truth, Dr Lightman, not money."

"Yeah, well, that's all well and good, but we still need to pay the electric bills and such, don't we?" Cal said a little shortly, and Eric faltered slightly.

Gillian jumped in to retrieve the situation, smiling at Eric. "We're just glad to be able to help. Hopefully Inspector Hunt will do a proper investigation this time, and Rachel will be out soon. And Amber can get the help she needs."

Eric nodded. At that moment, Heidi poked hear head in through the door. "Dr Foster? There's a phone call for you… sounds pretty important."

"Patch it through to my office," Gillian said, walking away from the two men. Heidi nodded, and Gillian turned back at Cal and Eric. _Try not to kill each other_, was what she wanted to say, but instead her mouth formed the words, "I won't be long." Stupid thing to say, obviously, as she had no idea what the phone call was about or how long she was going to be, but she couldn't really think of anything else in the moment.

As the door closed behind Foster, Cal and Eric looked at each other; Eric somewhat uncomfortably, although he tried to smile, Cal as though he were interrogating a suspect.

"You're very lucky, working with Gillian." Eric broke the silence.

"Yeah I am." Cal tilted his head as he surveyed Eric.

"I hadn't seen her for a long time, but she's just as I remembered. If anything, she's even more…" He broke off, and gave Cal a small, embarrassed smile.

"Yeah," Cal said, as if Eric had completed the sentence in full. "She is very…"

"Can I ask you a question?" Eric asked, a little hesitantly.

"Just did," Cal replied, and it took Eric a moment to respond.

"Right… yes." He gave a short laugh. "I mean…"

"Go ahead," Cal told him, and Eric nodded.

"It's just that Gillian and I… well, there have always been, feelings, between us." _Mutal feelings? _Cal wanted to ask, feeling half irritated and half amused at Eric's delusion. Foster wasn't interested in him. _Is she?_ Doubt was starting to creep in, but Cal firmly pushed it to one side as he focussed on Eric, waiting for the inevitable question. "But things," Eric continued, "they've never been… easy. You know, timing wise."

Cal nodded, his face betraying none of the truth that lay within. Timing. Damn timing.

"But now… I don't know if she told you, but I'm living in D.C. Permanently." The emphasis was placed heavily on the last word, but Cal continued to nod, a look of confusion on his face, as if he really didn't see where this was heading.

"I know Gill's going through a divorce, and obviously the timing's not ideal, but… if you wait too long to seize an opportunity, you might lose it, right?"

Cal managed to stop his right hand making a fist as he swallowed his feelings and merely nodded again. "Yeah, I suppose."

"So my question is… do you think it would be totally inappropriate and wrong of me to ask her out… officially? As in, a proper date? Because I know," he went on in a rush, "that we've been working together, and we're old friends, and perhaps friendship is all that she wants, she said the other night…"

Cal's interest peaked a little as he leaned forward an inch, wondering what Gillian had said the other night.

"But I think," Eric said, beginning a new train of thought and leaving the rest to Cal's imagination, "that we could be really good together, but I don't know if it's just too soon for her… and I know you two are close. Working together, and everything… so what do you think?"

Cal chewed his bottom lip as he considered his options. The truth. Or a lie. The truth. Or a lie. Truth and lies, truth and lies… it was what it all came down to in the end. If he told Eric that this was none of his business, he was respecting the line, staying out of Foster's private life, minding his own business. And if he didn't…

"I think," he said at last, "that it'd be a big mistake to ask her out. She's got a lot of unresolved feelings for Alec… I don't know how much she's confided in you about this, but… it's all very complicated. You'd be better off staying friends. Or, better yet, going back to the way things were before. You know, long distance friends, communicating via cheery little emails every six months."

The disappointment in Eric's face was obvious. Cal ploughed on. "I mean, if there are feelings there, but nothing can ever come of it, it's better just to remove the temptation, right? A starving man doesn't want to look at a feast he'll never be able to eat, you know what I mean?"

Eric nodded. "I –"

He was interrupted by a voice from the doorway. "Cal." How she'd opened the door so quietly that neither of them had heard her Cal didn't know, nor how they hadn't caught her out of the corner of their eyes, but there she was. Standing with her hands on her hips, her lips pressed together, her voice cold and distinctly un-Gillian like. "Can I have a word?"

* * *

Eric had excused himself, leaving Cal and Gillian alone in the room, but Cal had no desire to play out the scene in a room anyone could walk into at any point. "My office?" he suggested, and she'd nodded, her face still flooded with anger. _How much did she hear? _He silently berated himself for his actions as they walked down the corridor without speaking, her feet landing on the floor a little heavier than usual. They reached his office, and he gallantly held the door for her, following behind. As soon as he was inside and had shut the door, she spun on her heel to face him.

"You had no right to say those things to Eric." Her eyes were ablaze with fury, and Cal tried to ignore the fact that it made her look even sexier.

"I was just trying to help."

"You weren't helping, Cal, you were interfering. My relationship with Eric –"

"So you do have a relationship then?" He cut her off mid sentence, and she scowled even more.

"A relationship doesn't just mean dating and sex, Cal. You and I have a relationship, and we're not…" she broke off, looking flustered. "The point is, it's none of your business. How Eric feels about me, how I feel – or don't – about him…" She prattled on, listing reasons why she disapproved of Cal's interfering, but his mind kept replaying her last comment – _how I feel – or don't – about him_… _or don't… or don't…_

"Cal?" Irritation still laced her voice, and Cal snapped back to attention.

"Sorry love… you were saying."

"You don't even care, do you? It doesn't even bother you when you overstep the line."

"The line." Cal shook his head. "The bloody line, Foster. Haven't we spent enough time respecting the line?"

"If you want a free pass to analyse, judge and interfere with every aspect of my life, Cal, you're out of luck. Doing what we do, seeing what we see – you know it only works because we respect each other's privacy. And if you stop doing that, I don't know how this partnership is going to continue." There, she'd said it. She felt a lump in her throat as the words spilled out of her mouth, and she saw Cal's mouth drop open slightly in surprise.

"Foster…"

"Don't." She shook her head. "Just don't, Cal." She turned to walk away.

"Listen!" He was raising his voice now, and Gillian flinched slightly, but stopped walking, and turned back towards him slightly.

"If I want to be a part of every aspect of your life, it's not because I want to judge or control you or whatever the bloody hell you just said. It's because I care about you. Okay? I care about you," he said more softly, and walked towards her. Gently placing his thumb under her chin, he tilted her face up until she had no choice but to meet his gaze. "I care about you," he repeated. "You want the truth from me, Foster? The truth I've tried to keep hidden? Well here it is. I never thought Alec was good enough for you. It made me sick every time I saw him lie to you. I was glad when you told me you were divorcing him. Long overdue, in my opinion. I was jealous when I saw Eric come waltzing in here with grand ideas of sweeping you off your feet now you're a single woman again, because…" he paused slightly, his eyes still locked on hers, "because if anyone should sweep you off your feet, Foster, it should be me. It should be me."

The sound of Gillian's shallow breathing and her heart thumping in her chest was all she could hear; the rest of the room was deathly silent. Slowly, Cal drew his hands away from her face, and took a step back.

Gillian felt herself trembling and willed it to stop, but couldn't. She dragged her eyes away from Cal, feeling disconcerted after seeing such raw emotion there. She could read Cal, most of the time – they were close enough for him to be honest with her about a number of things, and he'd spoken openly about his feelings after his divorce on a few occasions. But this… this was different. The Cal she knew was gone, and in his place stood someone showing the one thing Gillian had never seen Cal Lightman display before – vulnerability.

The silence seemed to stretch on forever, and Gillian knew Cal was waiting for her to break it, but she had no idea what to say.

"Cal," she began, shaking her head slightly, and he got the message.

"I see. Too much of a risk, eh? Not prepared to jeopardise what we have for what we could have. Even if…"

Now it was her turn to interrupt. "What do you want me to say, Cal? You dump all this on me out of the blue, and just expect me to throw my arms around you and say 'let's live happily ever after?' You know that can't happen. Weren't you the one who told me there's no such thing as happy endings?"

"Doesn't mean we can't be happy, love," he said quietly. "If you recall, I also said I believed in happiness, and love."

"Are you saying you love me?"

Her words hung in the air as Cal considered his response. Never before had the word _yes _seemed so woefully inadequate.

"Foster," he began, still using her last name, just as he'd done since they met, "you're the person who makes me smile if I'm fed up, you're the person I want to talk to if I've got a problem, you're the first person I want to share good news with. You're the only person who can make me see sense sometimes, you're the only person who understands me without me having to explain things. You're the only person who can slurp an orange slushie in my office without it irritating the hell out of me. You're my business partner, you're my best friend and you're the only person besides my daughter that I know I couldn't live without. So yes, Foster, I love you. Always have. Always will."

Swallowing, Gillian tried to blink back the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks.

"I can't do this, Cal." She shook her head fiercely, trying to ignore the voice in her head that was screaming at her to hug him, kiss him, tell him she loved him – anything to stop the look of hurt that was etched across his face. "I think… I think when this case is wrapped up, we should dissolve our partnership. I think… I think it's for the best."

The sting of rejection on his face nearly broke her heart, and she bit her lip as she resumed her walk towards the door.

"You don't mean that."

She didn't reply, just continued walking slowly towards the door, trying to quell the queasiness that she felt at what she was walking away from.

"You don't mean that," he repeated. "Foster." She ignored him, and reached for the door handle. "Foster." She twisted the handle, wrenching it towards her. This was her last chance, to go back, to undo what she'd just said and done. "Gillian." Too late. She'd gone.


	12. Chapter 12

Thanks for the reviews everyone, especially to the last chapter. That was a difficult one to write, but hopefully you understand why it ended the way it did… for me, Cal and Gillian have a very complex relationship, and I felt Gillian's reaction to Cal's confession would be shock and confusion – her emotional state may have made her act in a way that some people thought was OOC, but I always try to write the characters as real as I can, and I'm happy with the last chapter – if you weren't, hopefully this chapter and later ones might change your mind :-]

**Disclaimer: I don't own Lie to Me or any of the characters**

Chapter Twelve

Gillian approached the Lightman Group building with intense trepidation the next morning. She'd left Cal's office yesterday and gone straight home – a cowardly thing to do, perhaps, but she hadn't felt like talking to anyone, especially not her friend and partner who had just confessed his love for her. She hadn't answered his calls, although he'd tried three times, and had spent most of the afternoon and evening sitting on her sofa, hugging a cushion to her chest and crying quietly. She'd answered Eric's call, only because she thought he would find it strange that she'd simply disappeared – Cal, of course, knew the reason. Eric did not. She'd told him that she'd had to leave because she felt a bit unwell, but to keep her posted on any developments in the case.

Taking a deep breath, Gillian pushed open the front doors, feeling as though she had a tightly wound coil in her stomach. _Should I have come in today?_ she wondered briefly as she crossed the lobby towards the elevator. _Of course_, she answered her own question internally. _You can't hide forever_. Still, the thought of seeing Cal, of working out what to say to him… Gillian had hardly slept last night, but thinking constantly of how she and Cal were going to sort things out after yesterday hadn't produced any results; she was just as confused and emotional as she'd been when she fled his office.

She had no idea how she made it up to the fifth floor, how she managed to smile in greeting at everyone she passed, how she managed not to simply collapse into a pile on the floor, showing on the outside what a mess she was on the inside. _Stay strong, Gillian_, she told herself. _Smile_.

"Dr Foster." Sarah, Cal's assistant caught her as she was seconds away from the sanctuary of her office. _Unless Cal's waiting inside…_

"Yes?" The word caught in her throat, and she coughed, clearing her throat as she smiled at the young woman. "Sorry. Yes, Sarah. Everything okay?"

"I was just wondering if you knew where Dr Lightman was this morning? Only he's got a meeting in ten minutes with Deputy Director Williams, and I've not seen him all morning, and he hasn't called in sick…"

Gillian swallowed, trying to conceal her emotions. "I'm sure he's around somewhere. If he doesn't show up for the meeting, I'll take it."

"Right… do you want me to send you the details?" Far be it from her place to mention it, but if Sarah was pushed to give an honest answer, she'd say Gillian Foster definitely looked unnerved this morning. And sleep deprived. And… was that a crease in her dress? Gillian Foster never showed up at work looking anything less than immaculate.

"That would be great." Gillian gave her a weak smile that she hoped would suffice and retreated into her mercifully empty office, leaning back against the door after she closed it. After a few moments, when her breathing had levelled out, she crossed the room and reached up to retrieve her happy box. Sitting herself behind her desk, she gingerly lifted the lid off the box, recalling with a pang how, less than two days ago, she had shared this secret treasure with Cal. Taking out the various items from the box, none of them gave her the same happy lift they usually did. Even when things were tough with Alec, at least one thing in the box had managed to lift her spirits slightly. The book… the bracelet… her and Megan in silly Halloween costumes… the last thing to fall into her hands was the photo of her and Cal, and Gillian swallowed hard as she gazed down into Cal's face. Even though in the photo he was grinning, the only expression she could see on his face was the one of deep hurt and devastation that had been painted across it yesterday – by her. Putting the items back in the box, Gillian felt a tear slide down her cheek as she replaced the lid and pushed it to the back of the desk. She couldn't ever remember looking at her happy box and feeling worse than before she'd opened it.

A knock at the door jolted her from her thoughts, and she quickly wiped away the stray tear and plastered what she hoped was a convincing smile on her face before chirping "Come in!"

Ria Torres pushed open the door and stepped in, surprise registering on her face as she saw the sadness that Gillian could not hide from her colleague. "Dr Foster," she said, wondering whether to ask if she was okay. "I was just wondering if you knew where Lightman was, I need to ask him something about the Layton case."

"I haven't seen him yet this morning," Gillian told her. Well, that was the truth.

"Is he ok?" Torres asked. "Loker said he saw him leave yesterday in a bit of an odd mood…"

"He's Cal. He's often odd." Gillian forced a smile. "I'm sure he's fine. I'll tell him you're looking for him, if I see him. Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Not right now," Torres replied. "If I haven't spoken to him in maybe an hour, I'll come back and find you?"

Gillian nodded. "No problem."

"Okay then." Torres paused briefly, then decided it was best to leave Gillian to her thoughts, whatever they were. She left the room, letting the door click shut behind her, wondering what was up with Lightman and Foster.

* * *

Three hours later, there was still no sign of Cal. Gillian had taken his meeting, managing somehow to say all the right things and to appear as a professional who was completely in control and not seconds away from breaking down in tears. She'd helped Torres out with the Layton case, again managing to avoid answering any questions about Cal's whereabouts. Sarah had asked her again where Cal was, as had Heidi, Loker and four other people. Tiredly, Gillian had told them all the same thing – she didn't know, but was sure he was fine. The only one who argued with her about it was Loker. What a surprise. His radical honestly really could be a pain sometimes.

"Have you tried calling him?" had been his first question after Gillian told him she didn't know why Cal wasn't in that morning.

"I'm sure he's fine, Loker."

"That's a no is it?"

"Loker."

"You guys have a fight?"

"Loker." Her patience was wearing thin.

"'Cause he sure as hell was in a crabby mood yesterday after you left. And I mean crabby for Lightman, not regular people."

"Loker. I don't know where he is. I haven't called him. If you're so interested, you call him." Her abrupt tone cut him short.

"Okay. Sorry." He retreated back towards the lab, and Gillian returned to her office, wondering what she was supposed to do next. All morning it felt like she'd been sleepwalking – going through the motions of performing routine tasks required of her, talking to people, shaking hands, signing papers, reviewing files. But all she was thinking about was Cal – where was he? Was he coming back? Was he ever going to speak to her again?

Her intercom buzzed, and she felt her stomach jolt, as it had all morning; every time someone knocked at the door, or her phone rang. _Is it him? _"Yes?" she answered.

"Dr Foster, I have a woman here to see Dr Lightmam," came Sarah's voice. "I told her he's not here, so she asked to see you."

"Who is it?"

There was a brief pause. "Amber Floyd."

* * *

"Amber?" Gillian approached the young woman, trying not to convey her shock at her presence at the Lightman Group.

"Dr Foster!" Amber spun around at the sound of Gillian's voice, offering no explanation to her presence other than a glossy smile.

"Do you want to talk?" Gillian asked, gesturing vaguely towards her office.

Amber nodded. "Okay. Can we go back to the place you talked to me in before?"

"If you like." Gillian caught Sarah's eye over Amber's shoulder. "Sarah… could you call Agent Reynolds, and just tell him that Amber is here?"

The pointed look that Dr Foster gave her to accompany her words added to the message that Sarah was already receiving loud and clear – the prime suspect in Adam Rayner's murder, a deluded, obsessive serial killer with a split personality and no memory of her crimes, who was last seen being taken in for police questioning, had just strolled into the Lightman Group as if this were any ordinary day.

"No problem," Sarah confirmed with a nod of understanding, which Gillian returned.

"Amber? Do you want to come this way?" Gillian watched Sarah lift the phone receiver before returning her attention to the woman now sashaying across the corridor towards the Cube as if she didn't have a care in the world. _I need Cal_ flashed through her mind – such a routine thought, it took her a second to realise that today that might not be possible. Would it ever be again? Trying to ignore the sickening feeling in her stomach, Gillian accompanied Amber to the Cube, wondering just how she was going to handle this one. The thought of being alone with Amber didn't exactly fill her with happiness, and she hoped Reynolds would hurry up.

"I like this place," Amber said as she approached the Cube. Gillian merely nodded as she punched in the code to open the door. Swinging it open, Amber let out an almost child-like laugh. "It's a strange place, but it's kind of fun."

"Amber, I just need to check something – can you wait here for a moment please?"

If there was any doubt written across Gillian Foster's face, Amber didn't see it. Obediently she sat, crossing her long, slim legs and resting her hands on her lap. "Okay."

As Gillian shut the door behind her, the other door opened and Reynolds swept in with a determined look on his face.

"Hey," Gillian said, her voice a little louder than usual. "You know Amber is in there? What the hell are the police doing releasing her? Surely they must have enough to hold her, for twenty four hours at least while they look for more evidence…"

"They already found their evidence," he told her, his explanation failing miserably to make any sense whatsoever, as proven by the look on Gillian's face.

"What?"

"They found this," he said, crossing over to the computers and pulling up a file from his account that he'd been sent.

"What is this?" Gillian's eyes scanned the screen. It was video footage – of Amber, she quickly realised, noticing the woman fourth in line at the gas station flicking her hair and clutching a magazine to her chest. It was unmistakably her.

"Look at the date," Reynolds said, but Gillian already had.

"October 15th."

Reynolds nodded. "6.32pm. Rachel came home just after 7 and found Adam dead; coroner said he'd been dead for less than an hour. This," he stabbed at the screen with his finger, "was taken from a gas station in Silver Spring. When the police questioned Amber about her whereabouts on the night of Adam's murder, she told them she'd been visiting her aunt in Rockville. Aunt's story checked out, but just to make sure, they asked her if she'd stopped at all on the way home. She told them she'd stopped here, they checked for the footage and…" He shrugged. "There's no way she could have made it back in time."

Gillian was shaking her head furiously. "There must be some mistake."

"Police released her without charge, and halted Campbell's petition to have Rachel released. She didn't do it, Gillian. And if she didn't kill Adam, chances are she didn't kill those other men either."

"No." Gillian continued to shake her head. "It has to be her. Every city she's lived in she's grown emotionally attached to a man who has ended up dead. And as soon as he's killed, she moves somewhere else. Are you telling me that's a coincidence?" Her voice was pitched higher than usual, and her speech was more rapid. Reynolds wasn't an expert in the field of human emotions like his colleagues, but he knew that Gillian Foster was not herself today. Her usual sunny demeanour was gone, and an agitated, solemn and emotional woman stood before him instead. He wondered whether the vast change in her mood was linked to Lightman's disappearing act; there was so much about the two of them and their relationship that he didn't know – didn't need to know, it was none of his business – but it wouldn't surprise him if the two of them had had an argument of some kind.

"Look, Gillian," he said, his voice low and steady. "I know it seems unlikely that Amber's not the culprit, but this kind of evidence can't be faked. The other victims I don't know about, but I can tell you conclusively that that woman did not kill Adam Rayner." He pointed his finger towards the Cube to emphasise his last words.

Gillian inhaled sharply, as a tentative knocking sound came from within the Cube.

"Excuse me?" Amber's syrupy voice filled the room. "How long do I have to wait before I can talk to Dr Lightman? I don't want to be back too late, my husband doesn't like it when I'm late."

Gillian's head snapped up, shock registering in every part of her face. She and Reynolds looked at each other, and for once Gillian was able to communicate with someone other than Cal Lightman without words. For a second neither of them moved or spoke, then Reynolds reached for his phone with a sudden sense of urgency, and Gillian took a deep breath and headed towards the door. _How could I have got this so wrong?_ she thought, taking another deep breath as she pushed open the door and stepped inside. It seemed all she had done lately was make a mess of things. _And we're all going to pay the price_, she thought gravely as she sat herself down opposite Amber, wondering where to begin this difficult conversation and wishing, not for the first time that day, that Cal was sat beside her.


	13. Chapter 13

Once again, thank you for all the reviews… hope you enjoy the new chapter :-]

**Disclaimer: I still don't own any of this stuff.**

Chapter Thirteen

"Tell me about your husband, Amber," Gillian began, searching the woman's face keenly as she did so. No fear. _So he's not violent to you_.

"Robert?" Amber asked, as if Gillian could have meant someone else. When Gillian nodded, Amber smiled. "We were married two years ago. It was a beautiful ceremony, a lovely sunny day."

"What does Robert do for a living?"

"He's a journalist, he writes for the Daily Echo." She smiled proudly, then her face shifted into slight sadness. "Sometimes he works long hours, and I get lonely. But when he's at home he likes me to be too. He misses me when we're not together." She smiled, her eyes wrinkling – genuine happiness.

"Did Robert know Adam?" Gillian asked, trying to piece together the puzzle in her mind. Robert. Amber. Adam. How did it all happen?

Amber considered this. "They never met," she said at last. "But Robert knew he was my friend. He knows lots about my friends."

"Do you talk to him about your friends?"

Amber nodded. "I talk to him about everything. That's what you do when you're married, right?"

They were interrupted by a gentle knocking on the glass panel. Excusing herself, Gillian left the Cube to join Loker and Reynolds outside. "Have you found him?"

"Not yet. Where the hell is Lightman?"

Gillian flicked her eyes away from Reynolds. "He's… I don't think he wants to come in today."

"Because?"

"Ben," she said, almost pleadingly; she couldn't handle talking about this now. Loker respectfully looked away and started fiddling with one of the monitors, pretending not to listen.

"I'm sorry, Gillian, but I need to know what's going on here. We find out that it's actually Amber's husband who's responsible for these murders; we need to find him before he figures out we're onto him and does a runner – he must know Amber's been talking to us and the police. If he gets scared, and decides to run, we could lose him for good."

"He won't leave without Amber," Gillian said firmly.

"You can't know this for sure."

"Yes, I can."

Reynolds sighed. "Look, Gillian, it's not that I don't have faith in you, but we both know that if Lightman was here we'd most likely have the information we need right now, and I can't just accept that he 'decided' not to come in today without a better explanation. So what is it? You two have an argument?"

Gillian lowered her eyes and bit her lip, struggling to hold back her emotions. "Yes," she said at last, her voice barely audible. "I wasn't sure whether he would come in today or not… I don't know when he'll be back… he probably just needs some time to process things."

"Since when does Lightman put personal issues ahead of work?"

_Since it's about me_, Gillian silently answered. To Reynolds, she simply shook her head. "Try calling him again. Tell him about the developments in the case. I'll try and get more from Amber. Hopefully the police will find Robert soon – he doesn't know we're onto him, chances are he's at work or home."

"She won't tell you though, right? She'll cover for him," Reynolds said, gesturing towards Amber.

"She won't understand why we want to talk to him," Gillian said, and Reynolds rubbed his temples as though he had a splitting headache. "So… she doesn't…"

"Know her husband's responsible for this? No."

"So you're telling me this woman never figured out her husband's a serial killer? Never even suspected?" he asked incredulously. "Did she not know these guys had been murdered, or what? Did she not question why they were moving across the country every few months?" Gillian could tell Ben was growing frustrated with his inability to understand Amber – not that Gillian could say she completely understood it herself. _After all, I missed all the signs_, she thought. _I read it completely wrong. _

"Amber grows fixated with men that she meets, 'nice people' as she calls them, but she never cheated with any of these men."

"That you know of," Reynolds interrupted, but Gillian ploughed on, trying her best to explain.

"She may follow them around, want to spend time with them, get close to them, but it's not a sexual obsession. At the end of the day, she goes home to her husband – home is still a haven for her, her marriage is her sanctuary from the chaos of the world. Robert has always taken care of her, supported her – she trusts him explicably. She would never question him."

"Yeah, that and she's a few sandwiches short of a picnic," Loker noted, looking up.

"Loker." Gillian reproached him, and the young man shrugged.

"I'm just saying."

"We need to find this guy," Reynolds stressed again. "Now can you get Amber to tell you where he is, or shall I give it a shot?"

"I'll do it." There was no doubt in Gillian's mind that a frightened or threatened Amber would give them nothing.

"Alright." Reynolds nodded, exhaling loudly. "But Lightman had better get his ass in here soon, I don't care how much he's sulking."

_He's not sulking, he's broken hearted_, Gillian wanted to say, her lower lip starting to tremble as she imagined where Cal was right now. _Drinking himself into oblivion_ was her first thought, and the one that stuck. _Probably too drunk to even answer the phone… and it's all my fault…_

"Foster?" Gillian lifted her head up at the sound of Reynolds' voice. "You okay?" There was concern in his voice, and Gillian attempted a smile.

"I'm fine. I'll go back and talk to Amber. Try Cal again."

Stepping back into the Cube, she smiled at Amber. "I'm sorry we've kept you waiting so long. I just wanted to talk to you a little more about Robert. Do you know where he is right now?"

Amber smiled. "It's a surprise."

"A surprise? You mean you don't know where he is?"

"He's sorting out where we're going next. I _think_," her grin widened, "it might be Florida. I've been hinting that I want to go there… lots of nice sunshine."

"You're moving again? That's… soon."

"Yeah." Amber nodded. "I liked it here. But Robert told me it was time we moved on, and he's always right."

"Did he tell you this before or after Adam died?"

Amber chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully. "Before. Yes, before. I remember. He was upset about Adam, but then he was better, like he always is. It's a good thing he got better before Adam died, isn't it? Can you imagine if someone dies and you were cross with them… that would just be awful."

Gillian nodded. "So… he wasn't happy about your friendship with Adam?"

"He… it's hard for him, sometimes. I'm his wife, but I like to have friends, you know?"

Gillian nodded, encouraging her to say more. When she didn't, Gillian stepped in with a question. "So, you said he gets upset and then he gets better… what did you mean?"

"Well, it's always the same, really. I find a new friend, and Robert gets a little… jealous, I suppose. Not that he has any reason to be – I mean, he's my husband, they're just my friends." Her insistence made Gillian's heart ache for her – the poor girl really had no intention of cheating on her husband or doing anything untoward – she was just desperate to be loved.

"So… he gets upset about your friends. What makes him feel better?"

"I don't know really," Amber said thoughtfully. "After a while he just changes… he kisses me, and he tells me that everything is going to be okay, and then it's like all his anger has just gone." Her face relaxed.

"And around that time, you move house? I know you've lived in a few different cities."

Amber nodded. "Robert always knows when it's time to move on. He says fresh starts are good for us."

Another rap on the glass. _Has Reynolds got through to Cal? _Gillian's eyes flew to his, and saw him making a 'move it along' gesture with his hands. Clearly, understanding the pattern of Robert's behaviour wasn't at the top of his list of priorities.

"So, Robert is sorting out your move right now?" Gillian tried to steer the topic of conversation back to the present. "Do you think he might be talking to a real estate agent, or booking flights, or…"

"I don't know." Amber shrugged, smiling. "Robert sorts it all out. I don't know what I'd do without him."

Gillian sighed, glancing back out at Reynolds, who was now on the phone. Their eyes met, and Gillian gave a small, 'what more can we do?' shrug. If Amber didn't know where Robert was, questioning her about it wouldn't help, but Gillian was reluctant to let Amber go home. Her open honesty would cause her to confess where she'd been – and what she'd been talking about – to Robert, and although Gillian knew Robert loved Amber, she wasn't about to risk Amber's life that his love was enough to overpower his anger.

"He's a good man," Amber said suddenly, and Gillian wondered if Amber had picked up on Gillian's feelings about him. _Is she that perceptive? _"He doesn't like it when I talk about my friends, but he takes care of me," Amber continued. "He tries to understand that I can't help it. I like lots of people."

Gillian nodded. "You meet nice people, and you want to talk about them. I understand that." She paused briefly. "So you talked to him about Adam, and … Paul Freemont?"

Convinced as she was that Amber would never testify against Robert, it wouldn't hurt to record her confirming that Robert knew about her friendship with all the murder victims – and how they'd moved house after he 'got better' from his anger.

Amber nodded. "I talk to him about all the people I like. Paul… Robert… Stephen… Adam…" A list of the dead. Gillian couldn't suppress an involuntary shudder. "Dr Lightman…" Amber continued.

"Dr Lightman?" Gillian felt like she'd had a knife plunged in her own heart as icy fear swept through her entire body. "You… like Dr Lightman?"

Amber nodded, smiling like a sixteen year old with a crush. "He's a very nice man. I like him a lot. He makes me feel… safe."

"And you told Robert that you like Dr Lightman?"

Amber nodded, then bit her lip. "He got upset, like he does. But it's all going to be okay." She broke into a smile.

"Robert told you everything was going to be okay?" Gillian was trying to keep the raw panic from her voice, but felt she was failing pathetically. Amber ploughed on, oblivious.

"Yep. He kissed me, and said everything was going to be alright, just like always."

"Just like he always does right before you move?"

"Yep." Amber nodded, still smiling like a child who'd just been given a new doll to play with.

"Amber… when was this?"

"This morning," Amber said confidently. "Just before he left for work and I came here."

Gillian pushed her chair back with such force it toppled over, and ran out of the Cube. The urge to vomit threatened to overwhelm her, but she managed to control it, and grabbed Reynolds' arm.

"We have to find Cal. Now."

"You really think this guy is going after Lightman?"

"You heard what Amber said. His behaviour changed – he always got angry when she talked about the men she liked, but then at some point, things would change – he would kiss her, he would calm down, he would tell her that everything was going to be alright, and then they would move to a new city, and the man Amber had been attached to wound up dead. That's the pattern." She was speaking quickly, the panic evident in her voice.

"Yeah, but the other guys he killed, Amber had been stalking them for weeks, months even – she's known Lightman for two days. It's too soon."

"Serial killers rarely operate with an even space of time between each murder. The more they kill, the more they want to kill, the easier it becomes for them – Robert has done it enough times now, the intensity is increasing. It takes less time for him to snap than it did the first, second or third time." The words poured out of her, her desperation to explain the situation and save Cal all she was able to think about.

"If you say so."

"We have to find Cal…" her voice broke as she said her partner's name, "before he ends up like Adam and all the rest."


	14. Chapter 14

As always, thank you for the lovely reviews, they do make me smile :-] Sorry about the lack of Cal in the last two chapters – had to be done! As for what'll happen now… well, I'll shut up and just let you read :-]

**Disclaimer: I don't own Lie to Me or any of the characters.**

Chapter Fourteen

Eric Campbell's head was buzzing as he marched through the corridors of the Lightman Group – not to mention the hammering in his heart, but that always seemed to happen when he was currently or soon to be in the presence of Gillian Foster. Amber Floyd had been released from police custody, he'd been informed – most of the morning had been spent speaking with Rachel, and he was ashamed to admit that he hadn't had time to call Gillian yet and tell her the bad news. _Rachel didn't do it… but if Amber didn't do it either…_ His petition to have all charges against Rachel dropped in light of new evidence was now abandoned, and Eric was beginning to wonder if he'd ever be able to make good on his promise to Rachel that she wouldn't be found guilty of murder.

A blur of colour suddenly appeared around the corner, and Gillian almost ran into him, dodging out the way just in time. "Hey!" Eric caught hold of her arm as she flew past him down the corridor. "Where's the fire?"

"Cal," she choked out. "He's going after Cal."

"What? Who? Gillian, slow down." He held onto her, but she struggled against him.

"I don't have time to explain!" she shouted. "If I don't find Cal right now…" Unable to even finish her sentence, she continued her sprint out of the building.

Astonished, Eric turned around and nearly collided with Reynolds, who was moving almost as fast as Gillian. "Ben," he said. "What's…"

"Fill you in later," Reynolds shouted over his shoulder as he pelted down the corridor, barking orders into his phone.

Eric leant his head against the wall, banging it slightly in frustration. Cal. It always came down to Cal. Eric had only been back in Gillian's life a few days, and already he could tell who the most important person in her life was. _And it sure as hell will never be me_, he reflected sadly. Pulling himself together, he continued down the corridor, determined to find some answers as to who was after Cal, and why, and just who was really responsible for Adam Rayner's death.

* * *

"Can't you drive faster?" How Gillian was able to form words right now she had no idea – her emotions were on overdrive, and she barely seemed able to form a coherent thought, let alone string a sentence together.

"I'm going as fast as I can – if we have an accident on the way, that's not going to help the situation," Reynolds said matter-of-factly, but there was a strain in his voice that told Gillian he too was worried about Cal.

She nodded mutely, turning her tear stained face to stare out of the window. The route was so familiar from the office to Cal's house – a route she'd driven hundreds of times, a journey she'd been on just as many times in Cal's car. The route he'd driven last night, when he left the office. _After I rejected him_. The thoughts would not stop now that Gillian had opened that floodgate. _After I told him I wanted to dissolve our partnership. After I walked out when he told me he was in love with me_.

She couldn't control the barrage of tears, and put her hand to her mouth as she tried to choke back a sob.

"Listen, Gillian," Reynolds began softly, as he continued to thunder down the highway at full speed. "I don't want to cause you any more alarm, but if you're right about this guy going after Lightman, then you'd better prepare yourself for the worst. This guy's MO isn't to kidnap his victims and toy with them before killing them – it's straight in, do the deed and get out. And Cal's been missing all day…"

"I know." Gillian's voice was unusually high, and Reynolds hated hearing her pain and distress. "But I can't give up hope."

He nodded. Everyone knew how close Gillian was to Lightman – the fact they'd argued yesterday was probably making her feel even worse. He lapsed back into silence, certain that there were no words he could use at that moment that could bring any comfort to this woman. If he needed to, he would do whatever it took to comfort her later – a shoulder to cry on, someone to hold her as she collapsed in tears… He didn't want to think about the worst, but the realistic side of him knew that Lightman's chances weren't good, especially if Robert Floyd had set out to kill him that morning.

Gillian found the silence neither comforting nor disturbing – she couldn't think of anything to say, and figured Reynolds couldn't either – what words were needed at a time like this? All that mattered was Cal – finding Cal before Robert did. Amber's words kept floating back to her… _Can you imagine if someone dies and you were cross with them… that would just be awful._ Hadn't her mother always told her never to go to bed on an argument, never to part with an unkind word in case that person got hit by a bus a minute later? If anything happened to Cal… _But it won't, _Gillian told herself fiercely. Losing him was unthinkable, but the idea that he might die believing she didn't love him or care for him at all was even worse… thinking she really wanted to dissolve their partnership, when of course she didn't… Fear had taken over – shock and panic had disorientated her when Cal confessed his feelings, and fight or flight had seemed her only two options. Fight for Cal, for your love, for your future. Or run. And hide. Gillian knew now she'd made the wrong decision, but the thought that she might be robbed of a second chance, the opportunity to put things right and explain how she really felt… She shook her head fiercely, realising she'd balled her hands into fists. The simple truth was, she was willing to fight, and she knew that now. _With everything I have_, she thought, _I'll fight for you Cal._

_

* * *

_

The traffic wasn't too bad, and Reynolds was able to manoeuvre the car smoothly and swiftly, arriving at Cal's house in record time. He pulled up outside, and Gillian's hand was ready to release her seat belt before he'd even put the handbrake on. "Hold on," he said, placing his hand on hers. "Back up's not here yet."

"You're telling me to sit and wait for your guys to arrive? Cal could be seconds away from death in there," she choked out.

"I know, but I can't just let you walk in there." Reynolds took a deep breath. "I'll handle it."

"You'll go in there without backup?"

Reynolds nodded, checking his gun. "I've got this. And he doesn't."

"I'm coming with you." She was out the door before he could stop her.

"Gillian," he hissed over the top of the car, but she was already running up the steps. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"The door," she said, her heart feeling as though it had literally cracked in two. It was ajar.

"I'm going in first," Reynolds insisted, recognising that nothing on this earth could keep Gillian Foster away right now, but certain of one thing – he wasn't about to let her join Lightman on this guy's murder victim list just because he, Ben, had been too slow to get in there first and shoot this bastard.

Gillian nodded, her desperation to find Cal mixing with horror as to what she might find inside. Reynolds returned her nod, and, his gun held out in front of him, walked into the house. "FBI! Come out with your hands up!"

The sound of movement from the kitchen caused both Gillian and Reynolds to turn their heads; Ben instinctively held out his hand to shield Gillian, who shrank back anyway. "FBI!" he called again. "Come out with your hands up!"

Silence. Inching forwards, Ben entered the kitchen, his gun held firmly in front of him.

"I'd put that away if I were you," came a voice, and Gillian felt her whole body go weak with relief. Cal.

Following Reynolds into the kitchen, her relief turned to intense fear again when she saw a man, presumably Robert Floyd – how many other men were out to kill Cal that day? – with a knife pressed against her partner's throat. "He's not too keen on guns, is my new friend," Cal said, doing his best to keep still.

"That's right," growled the man, his eyes darting from Gillian to Reynolds. "Put it down in three seconds or this floor becomes a blood bath."

Reynolds stayed frozen in position, his gun pointed squarely at Robert. "Ben," Gillian pleaded, and he lowered his gun, resentment written across every inch of his face.

"Toss it on the floor…" Robert said softly, and Gillian realised with a sickening feeling that he was actually enjoying this. But maybe she could play that to her advantage. The best way of getting Cal out of there alive was to keep Robert talking – if she could somehow engage him in conversation, talk about Amber…

Reynolds did as he was told, and Robert nodded in approval. "Good. Now get into the basement. I'll deal with you later." He jerked his head towards the door leading to the basement, which was also slightly ajar; he must have looked earlier to see where it led.

"I'm not going anywhere 'til you let him go," Ben insisted, and Gillian gasped as she watched Robert increase the pressure of the knife against Cal's throat, eliciting a slight hiss.

"Go, or I slice him right now. And then you'll know he died because you failed to follow instructions." The smile on Robert's face confirmed Gillian's suspicions, and she reached for Ben's arm.

"Go." He started to shake his head, but she gave him a pleading look. "Go, Ben. Now. Please."

"Three seconds…" Robert's arm was still clenched tightly around Cal, the knife pressed firmly against his jugular.

"Do as you're told, Reynolds," Cal managed, and Gillian instinctively reached a hand towards him, even though he was too far away to touch. Seeing him like that, and hearing the fear in his voice, was too much to take, but she knew she had to try and stay strong.

"Two…" Robert sneered. "What'll it be, FBI boy? One…"

"Okay," Reynolds said, stepping towards the door. "I'm going, okay? I'm going." He pulled at the handle, pulling the door towards him, then looked at Gillian, who was rooted to the spot.

"You too," Robert said, clarifying his instructions as he looked at Gillian. "This is between me and the wonderful _Dr Lightman_."

"I want to talk to you about Amber," Gillian said, playing her trump card. Cal's eyes flew to hers, silently begging her to leave, but she resolutely shook her head at him. "Let me stay, Robert. Let me talk to you about Amber. I spent all morning with her. Please."

"Okay," Robert said at last. "Hey, FBI boy," he called to Reynolds, who was standing in the doorway. "To the bottom of the stairs. You," he pointed at Gillian, "lock the door."

She nodded, making eye contact with Reynolds as she stepped towards him, silently apologising. He moved down the steps and she shut the door quietly, turning the key in the lock.

As the door shut, eradicating all light except a thin line from underneath the door, Ben groped for a light switch. Finding it, he flooded the small room with artificial light, then continued walking to the bottom of the stairs. Cursing himself for not having taken the shot, he sat down on the bottom stair, glancing around the room for anything he could use as a weapon. He was an FBI agent, well-trained… he'd been hired by the Lightman Group to do a job, to keep people safe, and here he was, sitting in Cal's basement, helpless, while upstairs Dr Lightman and Dr Foster both risked losing their lives.

_I shouldn't have left. I should have taken the shot. I never should have let Gillian come in with me_. Thoughts whirled in his mind as he sat there, waiting. Waiting for back-up to arrive. Waiting for news from inside; any kind of noise to tell him what was going on. Waiting to see if his screw up would cost two people he cared about their lives. Just waiting.


	15. Chapter 15

Hey everyone, sorry this one has taken a while – what with Christmas and work I've not had as much time to write, and this chapter needed quite a few re-writes… anyway, here it is, the penultimate chapter. Hope you enjoy!

**Disclaimer: I don't own Lie to Me or any of the characters**

Chapter Fifteen

Gillian turned around, her eyes glued to the knife still grazing Cal's throat.

"You're Dr Foster." It was a statement, not a question, but Gillian nodded anyway.

"Yes."

"She talked about you, too. Not as much as she talked about him." Intense disgust and contempt twisted Robert's face. With a sudden push, he threw Cal sideways and lurched for the gun. Gillian instinctively moved towards Cal, but Robert stopped her. "Uh uh. No. Stay where you are." He now held the gun in one hand and the knife in the other, a positively venomous look on his face. But there was something else clouding his face, and both Cal and Gillian saw it. Fear.

"Not been in this situation before, have you, Robert?" Cal noted. "It's usually one-on-one, but suddenly there are two of us. But you know this has nothing to do with her. Just let her go, it's me you're after."

Robert shook his head. "She knows."

"Ever killed a woman, Robert? An innocent woman, like Amber?"

"Don't!" he screamed, waving the gun in Cal's face, and Gillian flinched. "Don't you DARE say my wife's name!"

"Why not? I mean, she's the reason we're here, isn't she? She's the reason you killed all those people."

"_She_ is innocent in all of this – she's the real victim. Being taken advantage of by people like you." Robert kept the gun trained on Cal, but his left hand held the knife which was still directed at Gillian.

"What do you think she'd say if she found out what you'd been doing 'for her'?" Cal knew irritating Robert wasn't the best idea, but he couldn't stop himself. "She'd be disgusted, wouldn't she? Horrified. Ashamed."

"Shut up!" Robert snarled at him. "I should just kill you now – if your friends here had been thirty seconds later arriving, you'd already be dead."

"Yet another reason why they're such good people to have in my life," Cal said, attempting a casual tone. "So come on, Robert, how are you going to play this? 'cause you know I've not been having an affair with your wife, you know I have no intention of becoming romantically involved with her, or even socially involved with her. And Foster here – she's even less of a threat to you, surely. So let's just end this now, yeah? Before things really get out of hand."

"Can't do that." Robert wiped his brow quickly with his sleeve, then trained the gun back on Cal.

"Why are you doing this?" Cal studied the man's face. "I mean, you come barging into my house, telling me that I have to leave your wife alone… now I'm a smart enough guy to surmise that you're actually the killer here, not her, but what I still don't get is… why? I'm no threat to you. Adam Rayner wasn't a threat – he was happy with his girlfriend, he didn't want Amber."

"But she wanted him! Needed him. _Liked _him." Robert's neck was pulsing, and sweat dripped off his face. "Look, I don't have to justify myself to you!" There was renewed anger on his face and in his voice, and Gillian swallowed. _Keep him calm, keep him talking, don't let him hurt Cal…_ "Over there," Robert said, gesturing for Gillian to stand next to Cal. She dutifully obliged – it might now be easier for Robert to point the gun at both of them at the same time, but as Cal brushed his arm briefly against hers, Gillian couldn't help but feel marginally comforted by his presence.

"Why'd you come here, Foster?" he asked her in a low voice, and Gillian turned to him, momentarily forgetting Robert was standing in the room.

"To rescue you," she said at last, her voice barely above a whisper, and Robert laughed.

"Hear that?" he scoffed. "She wanted to _rescue _you. How sweet. But how did you know I was the killer? And that I was after your friend here?" He stepped closer to her, and she shrank back as both the gun and the knife came precariously close to her body.

"We thought Amber was the killer. When we found out about other victims in cities you'd lived in, we assumed she was responsible. We questioned her about Adam's death, and she showed shame. We were wrong," Gillian added, and Robert nodded slowly.

"She slashed his tyres," he told them. "That's what she was ashamed of. She told me, after she did it. Too bloody honest for her own good, that one." He couldn't stop his mouth turning up slightly in a smile at the thought of Amber. "So how did you work out it was me?"

"Amber was released because of CCTV footage which proved she didn't kill Adam." Gillian fought to keep her voice steady. _Just keep him talking… wait for the FBI to get here…_ "When Amber mentioned wanting to get home to see you, we realised you had to be the killer."

Robert nodded. "Smart. So… you just knew I was coming after your boyfriend here? You two are together, right?"

Gillian swallowed. "We're…" she began, unsure of how to put it into words, but Robert cut her off with a wave of his hand.

"Never mind. Don't care. The point is… what do I do with you now you're here?"

"I'm sorry, Foster," Cal said suddenly, and her eyes brimmed over with tears. "I should've come into work today instead of sulking around here, then this wouldn't have happened."

"It _was _rather fortuitous that you were here… I drove by just to check on the place, planning to come back later, but when I saw your car was still here…"

"And how did you find out where I live? And where Adam lived, and all the rest? Adam's address Amber knew, but mine she definitely didn't."

"I'm a journalist. I have ways of finding out anything." He sneered at Cal.

"So what's your plan, then? Just keep moving Amber around… kill again, move on, kill again, move on. That it? You think that's going to make her happy?"

"Everything I do is to make her happy! Protecting her from people like you…"

"You can drop the act, Robert," Gillian interjected, and he and Cal both turned their gaze to her. "I know you enjoyed killing those men. It made you feel powerful, right? Made you feel strong? Made you feel like a man, like the kind of man you always wanted to be for her but thought you never could."

"Shut up," he snarled, swiping the knife in the air in Gillian's direction.

"Foster," Cal said quietly. "Isn't it my job to antagonise people waving a gun in my face, and your job to calm them down and talk sense?"

"America is littered with your victims," Gillian pressed on, ignoring Cal. Now she'd gathered momentum, she couldn't stop, dangerous as it might be. "How long did you think you were going to be able to get away with this? Everywhere you go, a new city, a new obsession for your wife, a new murder victim for you. It'll never end."

Robert pressed his lips together tightly, aiming the gun now at Gillian instead of Cal. Beside her she felt Cal move slightly, sensing his alarm at seeing the gun now pointing at her instead.

"Robert," he said, trying to get his attention back onto him and away from Gillian, but she was doing a good job of engaging Robert's attention – he seemed to have temporarily forgotten about Cal.

"But you don't want it to end, do you Robert?" She locked her eyes on his. "You try to justify what you do by saying it's for Amber, but it's not. Maybe it was in the beginning – the first man you killed – you did it because you were jealous, because you didn't want him getting close to Amber. But then you found something out, didn't you Robert? You found out you like killing."

"I did it for Amber! You don't know what you're talking about!" His anger was growing, as was Cal's fear. This morning, he'd woken up with a hangover and a feeling of utter despair unlike any he'd ever known. Opting to stay away from work, and Gillian, he'd moped around the house all morning, sleeping for intermittent periods as he sobered up. Then a man with a knife had burst into his house, telling him he had no right to go near his wife, and Cal had truly thought his number was up. And then she'd appeared. His saviour, as always. Although whether she'd be able to save him from this… The only progress they'd made was to lock their FBI agent ally in the basement, and antagonise the man who now threatened them with both a knife and a gun. And Gillian… she was in trouble now, just as much as he was. While Cal didn't have a death wish, he'd happily step in front of the gun as it fired if it meant saving her.

Instinctively he reached out his hand and rested it lightly on hers, silently begging her to stop; couldn't she see she was only making Robert angrier?

"Of course, you still hate the fact that your wife falls in love with a different man everywhere you go – perhaps you really, foolishly, believe that one day she'll realise you're enough for her – but I doubt that's the case." Cal could feel her trembling, but she managed to keep her voice steady and even – she almost sounded like she was in control. "Most likely you've accepted Amber's pattern of behaviour, and you're continuing to respond with your own. Except now, we know what you did. And murder's a lot harder to commit in jail."

"I'm not going to jail. Which is exactly why I can't let any of you walk out of here. You reckon you understand me, Doctor Foster?" Robert spat the words out at her. "You say I'm a killer – that I like killing. Well then, you should have no problem believing I'll kill both of you – and your friend in the basement – to save my own ass."

"I think you enjoyed killing your previous victims – I think it made you feel like you were regaining control of your life. Because that's what you want, isn't it Robert? You want to be in control. You want to be the only one that Amber turns to, the most important person in her life. And when you feel like you're losing her, losing the control, you take it back."

Silence settled in the room, save for the sound of Robert's breathing, which had become quite heavy. Cal didn't dare speak; as much as it seemed that Gillian was only making Robert more riled, he had expected both of them to be dead by now, yet Robert had not pulled the trigger or used the knife. And if Gillian did have a plan, he sure as hell wasn't going to step in and screw it up. _Trust her_, he told himself, realising in a heartbeat that he did. _I trust her with my life_, he thought. _Literally_.

Gillian broke the silence. "And what about me?" Her voice was softer now. "You kill the men Amber likes and wrap it up as some sort of act as heroism, telling yourself you were doing it for her to help yourself sleep at night. But how will you live with the guilt of knowing you killed an innocent woman who did nothing but try to help your wife?"

"I… I regret what must be done," he said, averting his eyes from hers. "But you know the truth. I can't let you, or him," he gestured towards the basement, "walk out of here either. If anyone finds out, they'll lock me up. I'll lose her. I'll lose her," he added, more softly.

"You really love her, don't you?" Cal asked, unable to keep silent any longer, and Robert spun towards him.

"Yes!" he shouted. "Of course I do! All I want is to love her, but it's never enough…" He swallowed, glaring at Cal. "As long as there are guys like you around…"

"Hey," Cal said, holding his hands up. "I feel for you, mate. I know what it's like to love a woman who's too good for you. Feeling like you'll never be able to be the man she wants, the man she deserves – sitting by and watching her live a life that you're not the centre of. I get it, okay?"

"Like hell you do," Robert spat. "She's my wife, and she prefers the company of doctors and anyone else who shows her an ounce of sympathy. What about all the sympathy I have for her, huh? What about that?"

"She does love you, you know that," Gillian broke in, looking at Robert but allowing her eyes to shift briefly to Cal's, wondering if he would pick up on the double meaning in her words. "She just needs friendships to fill the loneliness when you're not around."

Robert shook his head fiercely, and Gillian saw the fear and doubt written across his face.

"Robert," she said softly. "I know you don't want to do this. Dr Lightman barely knows Amber; he's no more threat to you than I am. You feel like you're losing control, that's why you're doing this, I understand. But you don't need to. Your wife loves you. Can't you just let that be enough?"

He was wavering. _Come on, Gillian_, she coached herself. _Keep going_. "You certainly don't want to shoot anyone, do you?" _State what you want him to believe as fact, then ask him to confirm it_.

"I…" He looked down at the gun in his hands, then slowly put it down on the counter.

"Thank you," Gillian said, exhaling as she spoke. "You need help, Robert, and I can help you. I'm a psychologist; I can tell the police that you weren't in your right mind when you killed those men. But I can't help you if you kill me. And I _won't_ help you if you kill my friends." There, she'd said it. Put her cards on the table, made her offer. Now she just had to wait and see if he would accept it.

"Won't need you to tell the police anything if you and your two friends here are dead," he stated boldly, but Gillian could see the fear still in his eyes.

"Yes, you will, Robert. Agent Reynolds – the man you've got locked in the basement – he made a call as soon as we found out you were the killer – and that you were coming here. It's only a matter of time before the FBI arrives. More men with guns. And without my help, Robert, you're either leaving here in a bodybag or you're going straight to jail." She let her words hang in the air as Robert ran his fingers through his hair, looking more agitated than Gillian had seen him.

"If that's true…"

"It is."

"Then Amber will know what I've done. I'll either die, or be jailed for life…"

"Yes," Gillian said quietly. "Unless you let me help you, Robert."

He shook his head. "You won't help me. I threatened to kill you and your friend. Why would you help me?"

"I understand you, don't I? Isn't everything I've said to you true?" _Please, God, let it all be true…_

"Doesn't mean you'll help me. You're just saying that." He shook his head, letting his gaze flick briefly to the gun. "I'll lose Amber," he said, his voice sounding monotone. His eyes were losing focus, and his lips were down turned. Sadness. But there was something else there; a hint of determination mixed with a resolved look.

Cal saw it first. "Robert," he began. "Don't…"

Gillian caught on quickly. "Robert," she said, her heart thumping in her chest at the thought of watching a man shoot himself before her eyes. _Still, better he shoots himself than Cal_.

"Has to be done, I think," Robert said quietly. "Tell Amber I love her, will you?"

His question was directed at Gillian, but it was Cal who answered. "Okay."

"Not you," Robert said suddenly, his voice a little louder than before. "Her. She can tell Amber. You…" The flash of anger was back on his face, and Gillian felt the icy fist of fear grab her heart as she realised Robert's intention. _If he's going down, he's taking Cal with him_.

"Robert," she said, unable to stop her voice breaking. "Don't…"

"One last piece of unfinished business," he said, increasing his grip on the knife. "Goodbye, Dr Lightman."

Knowing he had mere seconds to live if he did nothing but let this lunatic come at him with the knife, Cal leapt forwards. _The element of surprise. About all I have in my favour right now._ Robert was startled by Cal's move and the two men collided. Reaching for the knife, Cal tried to twist it out of Robert's hands, but he was stronger than Cal had expected, or hoped.

Watching the two men tussle, the knife between them, Gillian stood rooted to the floor, horrified. As they staggered sideways, grunting with the effort, Gillian suddenly heard both men let out a small cry as they collapsed against each other. Gillian's hand came to her mouth as she gasped. A second later, onto Cal's pristine white floor fell a single drop of blood, then another.

Down in the basement, Reynolds heard Gillian scream.


	16. Chapter 16

So, here it is… the final chapter! Sorry it's taken a while to update, it took a while until I was really happy with it. I've really enjoyed writing this story, but it's been made even more enjoyable by the lovely comments and support I've had from everyone – so thank you! I hope you enjoy the final instalment. Action picks up where we left off, so you might want to recap :-]

**Disclaimer: I don't own Lie to Me or any of the characters**

Chapter Sixteen

A number of things seemed to happen all at once; later, Gillian wasn't sure if they had all happened at the same time or just in quick succession, her memory had become a hazy blur of activity and she couldn't entirely trust the chronology of her recollections. She remembered the door to the basement crashing down and Reynolds bursting through. She remembered the sound of voices outside signalling the arrival of the FBI. And she remembered seeing Robert stagger backwards, clutching his stomach as blood continued to pour from his wound, making a sticky puddle on the floor. Cal remained standing as Robert collapsed onto the cold tiles, and Gillian was suddenly aware of a lot of movement; Reynolds grabbing the gun and pointing it at Robert, FBI agents hurtling into the room, shouting for medical assistance, and her throwing her arms around Cal as she sobbed, shaking, onto his shoulder.

Cal wrapped an arm around her soothingly, but his other hand still held the blood stained knife. "I'll take that." Reynolds held his hand out, and Cal wordlessly placed the knife in his hands. "You okay?"

Cal nodded, his mouth dry, and wrapped his other arm around Gillian, who continued to shake violently.

"Dr Lightman? I'm Agent Taylor."

Cal disentangled himself from Gillian as the young man introduced himself. "We're going to need you and Dr Foster to come and answer a few questions for us. It's just routine, don't worry. It's clear that this was self defence."

"Is he going to be okay?" Cal managed to find his voice at last. Robert had been loaded onto a stretcher and whisked outside, leaving a trail of blood that sickened Cal to his stomach.

"He suffered a serious abdominal wound, but the paramedics were able to attend to him almost straight away, so he should pull through." Cal nodded. "Now, if you could come with me, Dr Lightman – Dr Foster, Agent Johnson is going to talk to you, okay?"

Cal could tell from the look on Gillian's face that she didn't want to be parted from him, but he squeezed her hand gently. "It's okay, love. Let's just get this all sorted and then…" He didn't finish his sentence; then they could what? Talk about how he'd opened up his heart to her and she'd rejected him? Discuss the finer points of dissolving their partnership?

Gillian nodded, wiping her eyes furiously, and watched as Cal followed Agent Taylor out of the house. "We'll get you checked out by our medics as well," Agent Taylor was saying, and Gillian could hear Cal protesting that that wasn't necessary, before their voices faded altogether.

"Gillian?" She turned to see Ben standing next to her with another man, Agent Johnson presumably. "You alright?"

She nodded. _Physically, I'm fine_, she thought, trying to steady her breathing.

"This is Agent Johnson, he's just going to take your statement and ask you a few questions, okay?"

Gillian nodded. "What…" She gestured to the blood on the floor, unable even to form her sentence properly, but Reynolds understood.

"We'll have all this cleaned up before you know it," he promised, and Gillian nodded again. Then another thought hit her.

"Amber…"

"She's still at the office," he confirmed.

"Has she been told?"

"Not as far as I know, no."

"I want to tell her," Gillian said firmly.

"Gillian… are you sure that's…"

"She'll take it better from me than a stranger in uniform," she said, resolute. "I have to do this, Ben. Please."

He hesitated. "She'll want to get to the hospital… well, maybe she won't when she finds out her husband's a serial killer, I don't know…"

"Ben," she pleaded. "You've seen her, you know what she's like. This has to be handled delicately."

He surveyed her for a moment. Although clearly still shaken by what had just happened, Gillian Foster still appeared strong and in control. She was smart, she knew what she was talking about, and Reynolds was inclined to agree that she was probably the best person to handle the difficult situation of Amber Floyd. He nodded. "Okay. Fine. I'll keep her there until you're through with Agent Johnson."

Gillian nodded gratefully. Her hands were still trembling, and she wished that Cal hadn't been snatched away from her so quickly. Even though she'd seen him, and knew he was fine, being separated from him so soon after thinking she was about to lose him forever was beyond painful. She needed to be in his arms now, needed to feel the warmth of his body, needed to feel his heart beat against her chest and know, really _know_, that he was alright.

"Dr Foster?" Agent Johnson prompted.

"Yes. Sorry. Let's go." She followed him out the room, careful to avoid the blood on the floor. She was desperate to get this over with as soon as possible, and tried to rehearse what she was going to say to Amber. _And when that's done_, she thought, _I can talk to Cal_. _Which conversation_, she wondered, _will be the most difficult?_

_

* * *

_

Three hours later, Gillian still hadn't seen Cal again. Three hours of talking to Agent Johnson, explaining everything in detail, signing her statement, and trying to find the words to explain to Amber Floyd that her husband was a serial killer.

Just as the vivid image of seeing Cal with a knife pressed against his throat would forever be etched in her memory, Gillian knew she would never forget the look on Amber's face when the protective walls of delusion and denial eventually broke down, and she understood what Gillian was telling her.

Gillian had explained everything as best she could – that Robert was responsible for Adam's death, and a number of others, that he had tried to hurt Dr Lightman, but hadn't suceeded, and that he himself had been injured and was now in the hospital.

"Why did he do it?" she'd asked, her voice sounding so fragile it made Gillian wince.

"You'll have to talk to him about that."

"Is he going to be okay?"

Gillian had no answer to that. He would, most likely, recover from the knife wound, but surely Amber knew that after being convicted for multiple murders, Robert would not be 'okay', and nor was their marriage likely to be. Even if Amber stood by him – and Gillian found herself utterly unsure of whether her intentions were to do just that or the opposite – her life was about to shift dramatically with Robert's imprisonment. "Go and see him," Gillian said softly, resting her hand on Amber's arm. "Agent Reynolds will take you to the hospital." And he had, asking Gillian once more before he left if she was okay.

Gillian had assured him that she was, and watched as he escorted a shaking Amber from the room. She sat for a few minutes, before taking a deep breath and standing up. She needed to find Cal. As far as she knew, he hadn't returned to the office; he was probably still giving his statement to the FBI, he had more to tell them than she had.

Leaving the room, Gillian walked along the corridor, picking up speed as she went. As she approached the elevators, she suddenly heard a voice call her name. _Just not the voice I want to hear right now._

"Gill, are you okay? I heard what happened, I'm so sorry for getting you involved in all of this."

"It's okay, Eric." She smiled at him, trying to reassure him, but her heart wasn't in it, even he could probably see that. "Cal's okay, and Robert's under armed guard at the hospital. And we know the truth about who killed Adam, not to mention all the other murders that can come out of the 'unsolved' filing cabinet."

"I'm so grateful, Gill. Rachel will be released in a matter of hours."

"That's good." He looked like he wanted to say something else, but Gillian really didn't have the time. "I'm sorry, Eric, but I have to…"

He nodded, a little sadly. "You have to go see him."

"Yes."

"Go." He squeezed her shoulder briefly, and reached out to press the elevator button for her. "Do what you have to do, Gill. And thanks again."

"Bye, Eric," she said as the elevator doors slid open and she stepped inside. He was still standing there watching her as the doors closed, raising his hand in a gentle wave a second before she lost sight of him.

At last Gillian was free of the building; having been cooped up inside all day, she was beginning to feel very claustrophobic and a little dizzy. Walking gingerly down the steps, she took in big gulps of air, feeling the cool autumn breeze on her skin. Earlier, she'd thought she might never breathe in fresh air again; what most of the time was a necessity she didn't really pay attention to now felt like heaven. _I'm alive_, she thought, closing her eyes briefly. _And so is he_. Of course, if Cal had died today and she'd survived, she still wouldn't have been able to breathe in fresh air like this. Her lungs would take in oxygen to allow her body to keep living, but what did that matter? She wouldn't feel alive without him, wouldn't feel much of anything. She'd be a hollow shell of a person, and probably wouldn't much care if she had fresh air or not.

_But that didn't happen. He's fine. Now you just have to find him_.

She paused, not even sure where to go – should she stay at the Lightman Group and wait for him to arrive? Go back to his house – would she even be allowed in there yet? She could try calling him, but somehow that didn't seem right. She didn't even know what she would say over the phone; she had to see him in person, had to hold him tight and make sure he knew she wasn't going anywhere.

Stepping forwards onto the sidewalk, Gillian paused slightly as she considered her options. Then, suddenly, there he was, about thirty feet away, a little down the street. Walking towards her. He saw her at the same moment she saw him, and he stopped. "Foster," he said at last, and then she was running towards him, her hair flying out behind her as she closed the distance between them.

Throwing her arms around him, Gillian pulled him closer to her until she could feel his heart beating in rhythm with her own. "I love you," she told him breathlessly.

Cal pulled back from her slightly, despite Gillian's attempts to hold onto him. "You don't have to say that, love. Just because…"

"No. I mean it." The tears were flowing freely now, but Gillian didn't care, and made no attempt to wipe them away. "I love you, Cal Lightman. You infuriate me sometimes. You're always grumpy on Monday mornings… in fact, pretty much every morning. You rush into things without thinking. You're interfering, and defensive, and sometimes I think you've never even _heard_ of the word subtlety…" She reached up and gently ran her hand down his face as her voice dropped to a whisper. "And you're my business partner, and you're my best friend, and you're the only person in this world that I know I couldn't live without. And I love you."

Before she could give him time to respond to her declaration, Gillian pulled his face to hers and kissed him. Up until that moment, Cal thought the biggest shock of the day had been having an intruder with a knife invade his home and threaten his life. Now he knew that the biggest shock – certainly the most pleasant shock – was this: the force and passion with which Gillian now kissed him.

_Is this real? _he wondered, as Gillian's tongue continued to duel with his. The feel of her, the taste of her, was making him feel weak at the knees. _And I always thought that was just a lame description used in her bloody romance novels,_ he thought with amusement as he wrapped his arms around her, this new level of intimacy between them making his heart race.

Eventually they broke apart, both rather breathless; Gillian's face, he noticed, was also a little flushed. She'd never looked more beautiful.

"So you're not going to dissolve our partnership, then?" he asked her lightly.

Gillian closed her eyes briefly, pressing her forehead against Cal's. She opened her eyes to meet his gaze, gently stroking his face as she spoke. "No… I'm sorry I said that. I was just confused, and shocked, and… scared," she admitted.

"Scared of what, love? Of the enormity of 'us'? That it wouldn't live up to expectations?"

"Of losing you," she whispered, and Cal felt his heart ache at the look of sadness and fear on her face. "You're my best friend, Cal. I'm closer to you than anybody else in the world, and if I lost you… if we tried to change things between us and it didn't work out…"

Cal nodded, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "I understand that, love. But you know you are never going to lose me. Never."

He spoke with such conviction, Gillian was sure that if she hadn't already been hopelessly in love with him, she would have fallen in love with him at that moment. She smiled at him through her tears. "When I found out Robert was coming after you… when I thought you might be…" She gulped. "I realised it was stupid to walk away from our feelings instead of taking a chance. I want you in my life, Cal. I love you and I need you and if you'd died today…"

"But I didn't," he said, pulling her closer to him in a crushing hug. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

She returned the hug, revelling in the closeness, never wanting it to end. A thought suddenly struck her, and she pulled away just enough to meet his eyes, her arms still locked around his neck. "I feel like the heroine in one of my novels," she said with a nervous giggle, and Cal laughed.

"Isn't it usually the damsels that are in distress in those books, and the dashing hero comes along and saves the day? Sort of the other way around for us."

Gillian laughed. "I'll rescue you any day, my darling damsel."

"Lovely. Just what my reputation needs."

"This isn't a romance novel, though," she said, her tone growing serious.

"No," Cal agreed. "It's not. Doesn't mean we can't indulge in a little romance novel-esque behaviour from time to time though, does it?" Before Gillian could respond, he lifted her up in his arms and kissed her with more passion than she'd ever thought it was possible to feel. _Why did we wait so long to make this happen? _was the thought flashing through both their minds.

Encircling her arms tighter around his neck, Gillian relaxed in his arms, feeling both more aroused and more content than she ever had. Eventually breaking away from the kiss, her face broke into a smile. "Consider me well and truly swept off my feet, Cal Lightman."

"Marvellous. Can I put you down now, though? I'm not as young as I used to be, and with all those doughnuts and pastries and whatnot you're always scoffing…"

"Oi!" She swiped at his arm as he put her down, but kept her arms wrapped around his neck as she smiled at him. "I guess you're not going to carry me off into the sunset then?"

"Not technically, no. We could stroll into the sunset?"

She laughed softly. "Sounds perfect."

He kissed her again; the euphoria of being able to kiss her like this was overwhelming, and powerfully addictive. After years of loving her from afar, she was finally his.

"What's with the soppy grin?" she teased him.

"I'm happy, love," he told her honestly. "I mean, I could have done without the drama of almost being killed this afternoon, but if it brought us together, I'd go through it all again." He caressed her cheek gently with his thumb. "Do you have any idea how much I love you?" he asked her softly.

"No," she whispered. "But you have a lifetime to show me."

Cal smiled and turned around, his arm around her shoulders. They started walking slowly along the street, away from the Lightman Group. Where they were going, he didn't know. Didn't really care, either. _She's with me. That's all that matters. _

"If this _was_ a book, this would be the end," she said suddenly, and he looked at her questioningly. "I used to imagine us in lots of scenarios when I read romance novels," she admitted, eliciting another of those Cal Lightman grins that she so adored. "I used to think you could be my happy ending. But happy endings are just for stories, Cal. You said so yourself. Life doesn't have endings. So, what are we…"

Cal stopped walking and placed both hands on Gillian's face, his eyes boring into hers. There was nothing hidden on either of their faces; no need for masks now. With Cal looking at her so intently, Gillian felt he was seeing right into her very soul, as she was into his. Gently he leaned forward and brought his lips to hers for a slow, sweet kiss. Breaking away, he smiled at her, the love in his eyes melting her heart.

"We're an unfinished story, love. In fact, I'd say this is only the beginning for us."

Gillian smiled as she looped her arm through his, continuing their walk down the street. "An unfinished story," she echoed with a smile. "That's what we are."


End file.
